Never Not a Hero
by FindingProvidence
Summary: A new dimension? Two self-proclaimed rivals; one a total battle maniac and the other an incorrigible pervert aiming to become Harem King? Stopping terrorists from awakening an apocalyptic beast? Well, at least Percy could say his life was always interesting.
1. I

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or High School DxD.**

 **Preface: This fic begins at the end of Crown of Ptolemy, Rick's own crossover between PJO/Kane Chronicles. If you haven't read it, I explain a few things about the situation and how Percy ended up hosting a god, but since the book is only fifty pages and a fun read, you can just check it out yourselves if you haven't already and want a bit more background info. I do jump into the DxD side of things pretty fast, though, so I think my barebones summary is more or less enough. **

* * *

1\. Goodbye, Hello, This Isn't Exactly my Ideal Vacation

* * *

 **Part I**

* * *

Stop me if you've heard this one: Percy Jackson and company fight a madman intent on ruining the status-quo, and after a hard struggle, Percy (that lovable idiot) is now seconds away from dying.

Oh, I'm Percy Jackson by the way, the above mentioned lovable idiot. Okay, I'm not actually an idiot, even if some people would beg to disagree.

I'm sure if you know my life, then you'd have cut me off pretty early on there in my catchy opening statement.

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not like I enjoy the world-ending disasters that seem to interrupt my normal life every other month. But being a half-blood is dangerous stuff. Being a half-blood son of Poseidon, along the same lines, typically meant I was involved in some seriously crazy schist.

And let me just say, falling from a thousand feet above Governors Island while holding a wannabe god dressed like Prince and hosting a goddess with a really gross habit of eating dead things was pretty high up on my list of crazy schist.

It all started when I met a kid named Carter Kane two months ago. He and I were chasing the same monster through Long Island when we'd bumped into each other. Once we'd dealt with the problem, we went our separate ways, but not before he inscribed some kind of symbol on my palm with magic. Back then, I hadn't known about the Egyptian side of mythology, and how it was real, much like the Greek side.

After Annabeth, my awesome girlfriend, ran into Sadie Kane, Carter's younger sister, I knew things were about to get complicated.

I was right. So there I was, dealing with another major issue. On the bright side, I was actually getting used to this kind of stuff. Hooray for small miracles.

"You're crazy, kid!" Setne, the resident wannabe-god, screamed at me. He was a greasy guy, and I wasn't just talking about his pompadour. "We'll both die if you don't let me go!"

 _Tighten your grip_ , Nekhbet, the Egyptian vulture goddess and protector of Egypt, said in my mind.

I wasn't planning on letting go, but hey, it was the thought that counts. Far be it from me to tell a vulture goddess what to say. It was only my body she was inside of. No big deal, right? I'd given her temporary access to _Hotel d'Percy_ just to fight against Setne.

Let me quickly say, I would not recommend hosting her to anybody else. She hates weak people, since she's a scavenger, and it's really annoying to have her second guess every action her host takes. So if you were ever planning on hosting a god, my advice is: choose someone a bit less zealous.

Now, Setne was an ancient sorcerer, so he could do some wild stuff, like creating a new hand for himself after my friend, Carter, cut it off. He was also responsible for opening up an absolutely wild rift in the Duat. So why he didn't just teleport us away or something was beyond me. Maybe he was busy panicking. Or maybe he'd used up too much energy splintering the Duat.

Speaking of which, before today, I'd known nothing about the Duat. But with some helpful info from Nekhbet, I now understood the Duat was the reality beneath the lie. It was a vast ocean. It was a giant mass of land. It was a world in-and-of itself, where the gods were banished to after being destroyed. It was a place of nearly endless magic. A shadow realm.

 _Why did you wish to know?_ The goddess asked me, apparently not in the mood to help as we kept falling through the sky.

I turned my attention inward to address her. _No reason. I mean, other than the fact we're about to hit the rift Setne opened._

And sure enough, we hit the rift, fast as a bullet. All the talking and my own thoughts had taken more time than I realized. So I didn't have time to brace myself when we passed into a trippy swirl of color.

Now, I'm not sure exactly what kind of magic Setne used, but this all started because he wanted to become a god and open up a bunch of garish McPalaces. In order to do that, he'd used the Book of Cloth or something in order to absorb Wadjet, the Egyptian snake goddess, right after he'd taken a selfie with her. With the snake goddess out of the way and her crown on his head, Setne was half-way done on his quest for immortality and godhood. Very scary.

Thankfully, Carter, Sadie, Annabeth, and I had all gathered the courage to face him before he could absorb Nekhbet. We'd saved her life, and after we told her the dilemma, she agreed to merge with me in order to fight Setne while the others prepared a counter-spell.

The plan had . . . kind of worked. Carter and I distracted him, and I'd managed to get him into the air for a face-to-face confrontation. Unfortunately, Setne was as slippery as villains come, and had managed to break my union with Nekhbet for just a second; it was all the time he needed to drag us down into the Duat.

"This is so _not_ kosher, Percy!" Setne struggled to get out of my hold. "We'll be torn apart to our very essence of spirituality if we enter the Sea of Chaos, you dolt!"

I tried not to worry about that.

Hey, at least falling into the Duat didn't feel much different from falling into Tartarus, which I have personal experience with. Lights swirled around us in a dizzying array of twisting rainbows. I didn't feel as cold as when we'd been above Governors Island.

At least, that was true until we passed through a wall of dark water.

We sank further without slowing down. Even though it felt like liquid, our momentum kept up. My ears popped as we exited the water on the other side, as if it were just a layer floating through empty space.

 _The River of Night,_ Nekhbet supplied. _We are well and truly falling through the Duat. The locations are all wrong, though._

I wouldn't know, so I took her word for it. The lights from before were gone. It was almost pitch black. But below us, I saw a single spot of orange-yellow. As we got closer, it started to look more like pictures I'd seen of the sun's surface.

Nekhbet made a noise similar to a squawk. _The Lake of Fire. If we hit that, you'll burn, and I'll be stuck in the Duat for a very long time._

"Percy! Dude, bro, buddy, pal," Setne was _really_ starting to writhe now. His squirming started to make me more than a little uncomfortable with how much we were getting to know each other. "Let's compromise! If you let me go, I'll make sure both of us make it out of here alive and well, okay? We have a deal?"

"Not a chance!" I yelled back at him. There was no way I'd trust someone like him to honor any sort of deal. As soon as I let go, he'd leave me in the Duat and go back above to finish my friends off. As if I'd ever let that happen.

A mixture of scents rose up to meet my nose. Gasoline, rotting meat, and sugar. Not the most pleasant combination. I gagged, and when my arms went slack, Setne took the chance to elbow me in the face. He was good at taking advantage of people like that.

We separated.

I cursed under my breath and grabbed his ankle before he could get too far away in our free-fall. Pulling him back, I tried to punch him, but he caught my fist and crunched his forehead into my nose.

Our struggle continued through the Duat.

When I felt the heat start to really pick up, I took a chance glance down. My blood ran cold.

The Lake of Fire ate us whole before I could even scream.

Odd as it was, I didn't feel hot anymore. All I could see was red, dark brown, yellow, and white, which meant I was inside the molten lake, but it didn't hurt at all. I'd have to thank the gods for small miracles at some point. Today, though, wasn't that day.

 _Setne has caused irreparable damage to the Duat!_ Nekhbet raged inside my brain. _I will tear him to shreds! I will feast on his cooling corpse and . . ._

When she trailed off, I got a distinct impression that she was hyperventilating. Honestly, I couldn't blame her. I was about to have a panic attack myself. Even if hers was out of anger and mine was out of fear, we were on similar wavelengths at least.

Falling through the lukewarm, unresistant Lake of Fire was making me anxious. I wondered if the damage to the Duat was what kept me alive while I dropped.

With a _pop_ , Setne and I passed through the lake, exiting into a bowl of terror.

Shards of light pierced the darkness of the Sea of Chaos. Grayish-red matter roiled all around us. The smell was indescribable but impossibly intense. My organs felt like they were going to melt if I breathed too much.

 _No . . . no . . ._ Nekhbet moaned as vortexes of rainbows spiraled across the Sea of Chaos and the Abyss. _It's over. We're doomed!_

A chill hit my spine when I heard her defeated tone. True enough, some of her feelings passed to me, but I'd mostly mistaken them for my own. It was easy to do that in my position. So when Nekhbet sounded so down, I realized it wasn't just me. She was scared too.

Setne screamed incoherently. Well, most of it was incoherent. Some of the words were colorful enough to make a nun blush. He directed a lot of that anger toward me—which was totally fair since I was the one to drag him down with me.

Hey, I wasn't going to go out alone. If I was about to die, I might as well spite the person who ends up killing me. Setne could get bent for all I cared.

We wrestled.

He kicked me away, and I spun through the air.

When I caught sight of him again, my fist shot out like a rocket, nailing him right in the throat.

He choked, but even that wasn't enough. His hands rose. A wave of fire streamed out of his fingertips. The flame curled around itself, racing toward me like a bat out of hell.

Around me, a shell of protective purple light flickered to life just as the wave washed over my body. I flipped around and slammed my foot into his chest. Before he could recover, I dive-bombed him, giving him a solid roundhouse kick to the face. The talons on the vulture avatar should have shredded his skin, and they did, but as fast as he bled, the tissue reconnected itself, and soon he was back to looking decent.

What an unfair ability. Regeneration, I meant. It was like using console commands in a video game to give yourself "god-mode", which in Setne's case, was ironically unfortunate.

"Just die already!" he cried out, clapping his hands.

The vulture-shaped avatar popped like a balloon. I'd forgotten he could do stuff like that. The guy was like a Swiss Army magician. He knew all sorts of fun, terrifying spells.

Chunks of purple power faded into the Sea of Chaos. My arms and legs throbbed, but at least they were attached. The worst pain came from my chest. Not the outside, though. A deep ache punctured the deepest part of me. Blood escaped my mouth, having come up from my lungs. Wind whipped at my hair and screeched in my ears.

We were only a few feet away from each other. The Sea of Chaos churned all around us, spitting up its gray-red water, barely held together as more whirlpools of glowing light cut the gloom. The Duat shifted between hot and cold randomly. My clothing stuck to my skin. I was soaked. But even as beads of sweat appeared on my skin, they started to freeze while we fell.

The air hissed venomously around us. Shadows warbled.

A sudden noise nearly deafened me. The sound of shattering glass filled the bowl of terror. I tried to look behind me, back to the place I'd come from—back to the ordinary world, where my mom, Paul, my friends, and Annabeth still lived. If the Duat collapsed, and the Sea of Chaos was unleashed, everything would be gone.

Nekhbet wailed. _It's too late. The Sea of Chaos has already been spilled into the mortal world through those glowing portals. We failed. We've lost. Even with his defeat, the spirit of Isfet won the war._

"But my family—" I choked on more blood.

 _Gone! The world is ending!_ Nekhbet spat. _We were too weak! Weak, weak, weak! We were weak!_

My breath hitched. "The gods wouldn't let that happen."

Nekhbet groaned. _The gods were afraid! We need mortals to fight our battles, as much as it pains me to admit._

I remember Dionysus had said that to me once, when he'd invited me to Bobby Earl's birthday party in lovely rural America while Typhon rampaged, telling me that gods _needed_ heroes. At the time, I'd been a bit too caught up in worrying about the prophecy and fighting Kronos to fully grasp the fact. Now, even though I was terrified about the end of the world, I understood better.

 _They're . . . gone?_ I asked Nekhbet. My mouth was too dry to form words. My throat felt like I'd tried to swallow a baseball.

The goddess didn't answer.

I almost puked right there. The bile definitely sprang up to force its way out. Thankfully, I managed to hold it down. Tears moistened my eyes. Ice coated my veins. My heart wrenched painfully.

Strangely enough, I didn't start sobbing. The ice in my body melted. I felt my blood begin to boil. The unease in my stomach went from bitterness to knotted fire. My face heated up, and the tears were brushed away as the wind kept rushing over my face.

"SETNE!"

I roared at him, one of my hands taking hold of his stupid shirt. Cocking my arm back, I punched him so hard some of his teeth came loose.

He tried to block my next punch. His hand came up to catch my fist again.

 _Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._

Instead of falling for that again, I pushed him away, grabbed his wrist, and rammed my knee into his elbow, breaking his arm with a stomach-churning _CRUNCH!_

My ears picked up on the noise even over the sloshing sea around us. Setne shrieked. He pulled back and launched a bolt of lightning at me. My nerves caught fire when the shock hit me dead center. Despite that, I took hold of him again. We flailed and twisted, throwing punches, kicks, and occasionally biting each other, clawing for any type of advantage we could get.

Now, Setne was a really good sorcerer—one of the best, Nekhbet claimed. Let me just clarify that he was doing fine given the circumstances.

Unfortunately for him, I was in a bad mood. All I saw was red.

My arms and legs broke his bones with each attack.

I felt the shifting under his skin as I pulverized the defenses he threw up to shield his Elvis Presley-looking mug.

All I saw was Setne. My vision was tinted red and black. I felt my teeth grind against each other.

The thunderous sound of a waterfall drowned out everything else apart from my own shouts.

Strength I didn't even know I had filled my body, making my assault impossible to stop. Even though the vulture avatar was gone, something lingered, like a river of power flowing inside me, waiting to be tapped and used.

Probably a side-effect of hosting a god, I thought.

But I didn't care what it was. As long as it let me pummel the greasy sorcerer, I didn't care at all.

 _I've been protecting you from the tribulations of falling through the Duat_ , Nekhbet informed me. _It has left me drained, but Setne has been doing the same for himself. He is considerably weakened. Strike while you can! End him! Destroy him completely and utterly!_

For the first time, I agreed with her. Setne was the one who'd started this whole apocalyptic scenario. He was the one who'd sheared the layers off the Duat, causing the Sea of Chaos to spill into the mortal world. _He_ was the reason I was about to be "torn apart to my very essence of spirituality".

So there was nothing for it anymore. I figured I might as well go out with a bang.

Taking hold of that river inside me, I dredged up all of my remaining strength. Setne was bruised and bloody, his face slowly piecing itself back together after I'd wailed on him.

Giving him a final glare filled with all of my anger toward him, I roared and whipped my fist around, connecting with his gut.

Setne was blasted into the Sea of Chaos, shot down so fast I barely saw him as he streaked into the waters. His body impacted the sea, and a plume of red-gray matter exploded out from the force.

He didn't surface.

"Good riddance," I muttered.

It took me another minute to reach the precipice of the absolutely colossal waves.

I turned over so that I could look back from where I'd come from. I didn't see the Lake of Fire, only a place that looked like someone had broken a window, like glass tinged with a rainbow speckle around the shattered edges.

"Sorry guys," I smiled even though my heart ached. "Guess I wasn't good enough this time around."

And before I could say more, the Sea of Chaos swallowed me whole.

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

My memory of the events immediately following taking a swim in the Sea of Chaos are pretty jumbled.

For the most part, I can't say what actually happened and what I imagined. I mean, I'll be honest, the whole ordeal with Setne was pretty exhausting—mentally and physically.

But for the sake of posterity, I'll give it my best shot.

I'll say this much: I remember opening my eyes, then immediately slamming them shut because of the wild colors that bombarded me. Pink, blue, green, purple, yellow, gold; basically everything I could ever imagine. It was like a clown had puked all over a Tilt-A-Whirl.

A few seconds later, after I recovered from the retinal damage, I cracked my eyes open just a bit, enough to start adjusting. Slowly, I opened them wider, until I could look around.

 _How unpleasant_.

My heart skipped a beat at hearing Nekhbet's voice inside my head. Not in a good way, though. More that she scared the living crap out of me since I'd forgotten she was around.

 _I heard that, you dolt_ , she huffed. _Stop being stupid and figure out what's going on._

"You don't know?" I asked, a bit miffed at her calling me a dolt. That made twice in one day, which was just a bit excessive in my opinion. What, was it "National Pick on Percy Day" or something? Did I miss the memo? I'd need a secretary to keep all those kinds of things in order. "You're the goddess here, Neckbutt."

She squawked indignantly. _Don't call me that!_

"Neckbutt?"

 _Stop!_

I rolled my eyes. "What happened, anyway, Neckbutt? Last thing I remember was punching Setne until he looked like Play-Doh."

The goddess took a second. Her anger transferred to me from my teasing, but I could tell she was thinking of something else. Almost hesitantly, she said, _I need you, before anything, to promise me you will remain calm._

I shrugged. Since I was floating in some crazy kaleidoscope world I figured there wasn't a reason to freak out any more than strictly necessary. Still, my brain-buddy's tone of voice really didn't do anything to keep me calm.

She must have taken my shrug as a sign of acceptance. After another moment, memories started trickling into my brain. I saw things through her point of view. Falling through the Duat. Breaking through the layers unevenly. Thoroughly destroying Setne as we dropped. Finally plunging into the Sea of Chaos, exhausted.

It came back to me.

Our world was gone.

My friends and family were gone.

I stared at the expanse of color around me.

 _Jackson?_ Nekhbet prodded.

I focused on breathing. I counted each inhale. Then I subtracted each exhale.

For some reason, the number always ended up at zero.

Math sucks.

 _Jackson?_ The voice called to me again.

My eyes wandered the colorful world. I hadn't even noticed the way all those colors tended to move, nice and slow, not nearly enough to make someone motion sick, but just enough to give a sense of progression. That was nice. At least I didn't feel like we were just sitting in one place. A bit of forward momentum was good. It wouldn't be fun to laze around in one spot forever. That would be boring. Very boring. Too boring, actually. And as I thought more about it, I realized how terrible it must have been for people before cars and stuff. I mean, unless they had a death wish, they could only travel on good roads by foot or by horse. That was dangerous, what with robbers and disease and wild animals all a common thing. Plus the weather was hard to predict.

 _Jackson!_

I blinked. "What?"

 _Keep calm. Breathe. Don't lose focus_ , Nekhbet instructed me. _We need to find a way out of . . . wherever we are._

"Oh. Right."

But the thing is, I didn't see any kind of exit. Colors, colors, and more colors. I wondered if there was even a point in trying to find a way out. What good would that do us?

"Is this the Sea of Chaos? Are we . . . dead?" I asked. Oddly enough, right then, I felt Riptide reappear in my pocket. Strange, considering Setne had eaten it on Governors Island. The outline of my pen in my jeans did help to calm me down, if only a little.

 _I may not know how it looks like inside, but I can guarantee that this place isn't the Sea of Chaos._

"Okay." I kept slowly moving my eyes and head. In truth, I supposed that if this was the place I'd have to spend eternity inside, it wasn't all that bad. At least there was free entertainment, even if it was at basic cable level. "If Annabeth were here she would know what to do."

I felt tears burn my eyes. Just thinking about the people I'd left behind made my stomach tighten.

 _Jackson. Listen well_. Nekhbet's voice came softly, but I could also hear she was serious. _We must come to terms with the fact that our world is nothing but an ocean of never-ending chaos. I don't like it either, but there's nothing we can do at this point._

Given that I was hosting her, the goddess' own feelings weren't lost on me. She had a husband, the god Babi, but she was pretty indifferent about not being able to see him again. What really ground on her gears was the sense of failure. Since she was a protector of Egypt, Nekhbet had a certain amount of pride in her abilities. Losing her crown had been the first blow. The second had come when she'd been convinced to work with me to stop Setne. And the final was, of course, not just failing to get the crown of Upper Egypt back, but also failing to stop the apocalypse. Egypt was forever lost. As a goddess, her pride had been shattered, and as a protector, she'd watched everything being swept away by chaos.

Unfortunately, her own disappointment definitely transferred to me, what with me being her host and all. I didn't feel any better knowing she'd lost things too. It honestly just made me feel worse.

 _We are sharing each other's burden in this way_ , Nekhbet huffed.

I frowned, wiping the tears with my arm. "What're you talking about?"

She scoffed. _If not for me, you would be insufferably melancholic. I am running myself ragged in trying to influence your emotions. Knowing you lost your mother, your friends, and your lover . . . the kind of person you are would lead to you experiencing a much more visceral, raw reaction than what you are. I am shielding you from all that. Just as you feel my own frustration, as I can only do so much. Be grateful._

My frown faltered, then came back as a scowl. "I never asked you to do that. Why would you even bother? You hate weak people."

 _True_ , she muttered, _but since you are my host, I feel a bit obligated to assist you._

Though she sounded like she wanted to say more, our attention shifted when a presence made itself known in the loudest possible way: tearing a hole right through a section of the kaleidoscope we were in.

"Holy Hera." I gaped as a massive dragon escaped the rip it had made. Scales a deep scarlet, eyes a piercing gold, four wings, and easily a hundred yards long, the dragon was a sight to behold. Even though it had entered a reasonable distance away, I felt a pull inside my body, like with the Giants, as if this thing had its own gravitational field.

 _By the pharaohs_.

"What . . . is _that_?"

 _I don't know. Nor do I believe I wish to make its acquaintance._

"Should we play dead? Don't mice play dead? Let's be mice for a second."

The dragon opened its mouth and roared. Waves of sound sent vibrations through my body. I was thrown back. My hair ruffled and my ears popped. Memories of Kronos' invasion of Manhattan came to mind, and how he'd unleashed a Lydian drakon on us. I'd been terrified then, even with the Curse of Achilles. Now, still dangerously low on energy, I was just about ready to resign myself to my ultimate fate: becoming helpless dragon food.

Real heroic.

But the dragon didn't seem to notice me. Instead, it roared again, which sounded a lot like a motorcycle revving up.

It did a barrel roll.

I stared. _What?_

It revved again and did a backflip.

I blinked but kept staring. _Wait . . . what?_

Nekhbet shook her head. _I . . . don't have the slightest inkling._

Another engine rev and the dragon did some diagonal cyclone, spinning like a drill cutting through the air.

As it got closer, our eyes locked, and I froze, feeling an immense pressure build in my skull.

 **«If you don't stop staring, I'll eat you.»**

The words weren't spoken as much as they were blasted into my brain. Myriads of color shot across my vision. For a few seconds, I was separated from my body.

 **«Never mind. You smell too much like chaos. Disgusting.** **»**

When I came back to my senses, I could only ask, "You can talk?"

See, now that may have been a stupid question, but where I'm from, dragons and drakons don't talk. Some monsters can, like dracaenae, but most can only snarl or gnash their teeth together, going on to slobber and roar after a few seconds. So hearing this huge, football-field-sized dragon tell me to stop staring at it was a little shocking.

I make no excuses, even if there are plenty to argue, for why I decided to keep staring at the dragon after it told me not to do so. In the end, I suppose I'm not the most well-mannered guy out there. Many of the gods can testify to that, I think.

 **«I don't have time to answer your questions, godling.»**

It swiped one of its claws through the air. The claw tore through space as if it were fabric.

And without another word, the dragon snorted, its breath blowing me into the portal at terminal velocity. The last thing I saw was its wings folding so it could do another sick flip in the kaleidoscopic world.

* * *

 **Part III**

* * *

Falling.

Man, I'd spent way too much time falling already. I'll be honest, it was getting pretty old, especially because unlike my good pal Jason Grace, I can't fly.

Well, I can't fly without Nekhbet's help. The vulture avatar does have wings, and I'd used it to pull Setne up above Governors Island before.

But the goddess was pretty burned out by this point. We'd spent all day doing crazy, draining things, so I wouldn't blame her for taking some time to recover.

I wouldn't have complained if she cut back on the _H_ _olier-Than-Thou_ attitude, though.

 _Do something!_ She shouted at me.

I plummeted. My face and eyes stung from the wind, which pummeled me relentlessly. When I hit a big group of dark gray clouds, the pain and cold both intensified. All of the moisture that was gathered didn't make for a pleasant experience, the water droplets striking my skin like little BB pellets.

Once I passed through the lowermost layer of clouds, relief flushed my system.

The ocean was below me.

I was going to fall into the ocean.

Most people would still be freaking out, since hitting water while traveling over a hundred miles-per-hour usually meant death. But I'm a man of many talents.

Just to my north was a coastal city.

Wait, a city? How was I looking at a city? The Sea of Chaos should have destroyed everything.

I turned the question to Nekhbet, but she was even more confused than I was.

Now, I wasn't sure what to think about skydiving, but I'd always had the idea that it didn't take very long to reach the ground. I didn't realize just how fast I could fall, though. It only took thirty seconds from exiting the clouds until I was just a hundred feet from the ocean's surface.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a blur of blue light.

Then, I hit the water.

My aches vanished. I felt my muscles loosen up. Saline water always did wonders in patching me back up, like some special doctor just for a son of Poseidon. A lot of my strength came back to me. Usually, it took a little longer, but having Nekhbet with me must have amped up my healing.

Before I could relax, though, the blue blur from above splashed into the water. A hand latched to my bicep and hauled me up through a swirl of bubbles.

The abrupt action left me confused, so I didn't fight, even as I got pulled up to the surface. But we didn't stop moving there. Whoever had hold of me kept going until we were airborne again, moving so fast my eyes hurt.

 _Stop pussyfooting and defend yourself!_ Nekhbet shouted at me.

I mentally thanked her for snapping me out of my daze and reached for Riptide with my free hand. Flicking the cap off my pen with a thumb, I swiped at the person holding me, clipping his forearm and causing him to drop me with a grunt.

We had gotten closer to a beach during the flight, and I fell into some shallow waters. Taking the opportunity, I created a current and shot through the foreshore, bursting out onto the swash zone, my shoes digging trenches in the wet sand when I slid ashore.

Across from me, a man flew down, two glowing wings on his back. Except, looking closer, I noted that the wings didn't have feathers, but rather four sections of translucent blue energy.

If it hadn't been for the menacing feeling, I might have run over and given him a big hug. After all, this meant the Sea of Chaos hadn't been released. My friends and family were still alive. I hadn't completely lost.

The guy pushed a wet fringe of dense silver hair out of his eyes. He shook the sleeves of his black leather jacket and squeezed water from his green V-neck shirt. His gaze soon locked on me; predatory, powerful, and intimidating, I put both hands on Riptide's leather hilt in response to the challenge I saw in his eyes.

"Is that any way to thank the guy who saved your life?" His tone was fairly light, but I knew better than to let my guard down.

"Appreciate the sentiment," I responded with a nod. "But I was actually better off in the water."

The guy smirked, his fingers prodding at the small cut in his jacket's sleeve. "Do you have a death wish?"

Good question. "No. Honest. But I've been having a bad day."

"That so? Well, from the looks of it, you're ready to let out some of that aggression on me." He flicked some blood off his fingers; vivid red. "Name's Vali, by the way."

I planted my feet into a better position. "I'm Percy. So what's with the wings? Can you go full-on giant chicken mode like Carter? Or are you some kind of monster?"

Vali's eyebrow went up. For a second, it looked like a grimace crossed his face, but when I checked again he was still smirking. "These wings are my Sacred Gear. You may have heard of it: Divine Dividing."

His confidence in being recognized almost made me feel bad for the guy when I shrugged, shaking my head. "Not ringing any bells. Are you a magician? Is a Sacred Gear another one of your whacko toys?"

"You've never heard of—?" He stared at me strangely. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced at my sword. "I'm no magician. And Sacred Gears aren't toys. They're artifacts, imprinted upon a human's soul at birth, given to humanity as the God of the Bible's method of enacting certain miracles. Although, I suppose some people might use a Sacred Gear as a toy."

I scrunched my face. God of the Bible? As in the Christian God—capital G, God—that Chiron mentioned as a metaphysical matter? _T_ _hat_ God?

It didn't make sense to me. Not his talk of "God" or whatever those Sacred Gears were. I'd never heard of them. If they were from the Egyptian side, then Carter and Sadie hadn't mentioned them, which sounded like it would be a pretty big oversight if those things were as powerful as Vali made them sound.

Vali took a step forward. In itself, it should have been a pretty mundane thing. But I was already nervous, so the single stride felt damning.

"You're clearly struggling," he said curiously. "Who . . . _what_ are you."

I gripped Riptide harder. "Hey, I asked you first, pal."

"I am the current wielder of the mid-tier Longinus, Divine Dividing. I am this generation's White Dragon Emperor." He put his hands in his pockets. "And since I was born with this Sacred Gear, then it stands to reason I'm human. To some extent, that is."

"Are you a half-blood?" I couldn't help but ask. It was my go-to question when meeting these kinds of people, apparently. I mean, it wasn't exactly a stretch to imagine he was, in fact, a half-blood. He seemed strong.

Vali's eyes lost focus for a bit. He rolled his shoulders, the wings still extended behind him. "Yes. I am."

I didn't relax my posture. Nekhbet was helping keep me alert. The beach we were on was practically empty, even though there was a ton of space. Maybe people thought the cloudy sky meant heavy rain. To our right were rows of buildings that could either be hotels or apartments. The air between us practically crackled with tension.

"What a coincidence. So am I." My smile was forced. I remembered my misunderstanding with Carter and corrected, "Demigod, that is."

An incoming swash drowned my ankles in foamy seawater.

A smile crossed his face. "Demigod, you say? Interesting. Tell me, is it true your kind loves to fight?"

"My kind? I thought you were a half-blood too?"

Thunder rumbled in the distance. When I looked over, I saw flashes of lightning in the distance.

"I'm not part god," Vali shook his head. "I'm a half-devil. My name is Vali Lucifer, a descendant of the original Lucifer."

Okay, I'd fought demons before, but it sounded like he was talking about _the_ Lucifer.

Satan.

The Morning Star.

I mean, almost everybody knew about that guy in one way or another. He was, like, the biggest baddie. Not to mention he was a popular option for people to dress up as during Halloween.

But he wasn't real, right? I'd been to the Underworld before. I'd met Hades. Was that who Vali meant: Hades? Some people might equate Hades to Lucifer. But in my line of work, assumptions like those made me a target for misunderstandings.

"So, yes or no?" Vali Lucifer took another step, hands coming out of his pockets. "Do you love fighting? Are you strong?"

 _Prepare yourself_ , Nekhbet warned. _He's ready to pounce. We can't assume my avatar, either. Be that as it may, I am allowing you to tap into the last reserves of my power._

I exhaled slowly. "It's more that I'm hard-wired toward it. All demigods have battle instincts. As for being strong . . . I think that depends on who you ask."

Vali hummed. He gave me a final once-over, then cracked his knuckles. "Let's fight then."

Negotiations broke down. He charged me before I could even say otherwise.

His shoes skimmed the sand as he flew, using his wings to keep him afloat. Just as he reached me, he spun and tried to kick my head off.

I dodged, bringing my sword up, drawing another shallow gash on his thigh. Riptide arced, droplets of red blood speckling the celestial bronze. With a twist of my wrist, the sword reversed course to slice into Vali's side.

Vali launched himself back. He smirked and came at me again.

This time, his attack included a few feints. I tried to avoid everything, which meant ducking and weaving like an absolute madman, but eventually, he tagged me with a solid haymaker to my jaw. Pain pounded in my skull as his ridiculous strength lifted me off my feet. I flew further into the surf, thankful, at least, that he had no idea I was packing some serious firepower myself.

As soon as he stepped into an oncoming rush of water, I reached out to the ocean. A breaker cut through the nearshore, built from a massive wave, roaring until it was towering over us. The wall of water surged forward, a speeding swell which could sweep away cars and trees, crashing full force into both Vali and me.

We were completely submerged. In the moment before the wave receded, I exploded through the water, slamming into Vali like a torpedo. My knee hit his chest, and we both went flying out of the water from the momentum I'd carried over. He shot into the stairs leading off the beach, some hundred feet away, shattering the stone and sending sand into the sky.

Again, I was a bit surprised by the power of my attack. Nekhbet's strength combined with my own was nothing to sneeze at, apparently.

Somehow, Vali stood, dusting his clothes off. He rolled his neck, smirking at the very audible pops that came from his spine. A wad of blood fell from his mouth.

"Nice. You're pretty good."

Hold on, what was this guy? I walloped him hard enough to make a Titan think twice before messing with me. I bet even Hyperion would have started blubbering after that. How in the world had this N'Sync-looking son-of-a-hellhound shaken off that hit so easily?

Frowning, I grabbed hold of the river inside me, funneled the flow, and took off. The hundred feet that once separated us disappeared in a second; all it had taken was a few steps. Vali managed to throw himself aside just enough to avoid from being gouged too deeply by Riptide's glowing edge.

But he hadn't been able to escape entirely.

My sword ran along his lower ribs, adding another cut to his body. I planted my foot on the stairs behind him, stopping myself from carrying too far, and pushed hard to redirect my trajectory, Riptide poised to connect with his turned back. He must have seen that coming, though, since he leaped over my swing, flipping in the air to land on the top of the stairs. His wings glowed ominously while he sucked in a breath.

"Let's take things up a notch, shall we? You're making this way too fun." Vali spread the wings wide. "Balance break."

 **[Vanishing Dragon Balance Breaker!]**

A rumbling, powerful voice had shouted from somewhere near Vali. The term honestly meant nothing to me, but when a flash of white light covered his body, I knew things were about to get worse for me.

I would have to thank Lupa, if I ever met her again, since my instinct to raise Riptide defensively saved me from taking one hell of a right hook. As it was, a white gauntlet collided with the flat of my blade. Sparks zipped to life from the point of contact, spraying out between us is a shower of orange.

My muscles hadn't quite been prepared enough for the sudden punch, and so I soared. This time, though, I was thrown well and truly clear of the beach, landing in deep water far offshore.

Any energy I'd just spent came back to me. The sting in my hands from Vali's attack faded. I willed the water to push me up, poking my head above the ocean's calm lapping. A streak of blue was approaching me from the beach.

Vali.

He was fast. Very fast, if the splashing water he kicked up from his flight was anything to go by.

 _Too bad for him,_ Nekhbet cawed.

I agreed with her for the second time today. We'd have to mark it down on the calendar so we could celebrate. This was a historic moment. Two people coming together after a long mental struggle. The Cold War of our minds was thawing. Mr. Gorbachev, bring down this wall.

When Vali was only twenty feet away, I threw a half-hearted punch at the air in front of me. A watery fist shot from right beneath him, hitting his gut and sending him tumbling. He righted himself in the air, but by then I was already on top of him. I practically skated over the ocean's surface, faster than a sailfish.

Vali had just barely recovered, adjusting his course of flight by a few inches when my sword cut through one of his wings, both of us traveling so fast that Riptide's edge didn't catch much. To my surprise, he managed to graze me with a haphazard kick to my knee, somehow able to retaliate as he spiraled into the sea.

Then, from below the waves, I heard it: **[Divide!]**

I gasped as fatigue spread across my body. I almost sank back into the ocean, but managed to keep my shoes planted on the water's surface.

"Wha—?"

The water exploded upward a few feet away from me.

For the first time since the beach, I got a good look at Vali as he floated to the sky. White armor covered him from head to toe, sharp and angular, a full helmet obscuring his face. He had both wings again, though the one I'd cut off before looked like it was glowing a bit brighter than the other.

"How did you like that?" he asked, his voice a bit warbled, but still very much audible, even behind that mask. "The ability of my Sacred Gear, Divine Dividing, is to halve the power of whatever I last touched, adding it to my own stores, allowing me to recuperate that way."

My eyes narrowed. "Did you seriously just tell me what your powers are? Who even does that? Especially in the middle of a fight."

No, but really, who did that? Was this a cartoon? Had falling into the Sea of Chaos brought me to some kind of Bizzaro World? Was this something like the Truman Show?

"Is it so wrong to do so when your opponent has no hope of winning?" Vali reared back, then burst forward. Like a blue line of light, he snapped through the air, zigzagging to throw me for a loop. When he finally came at me, I was ready. He assumed I was only operating at half my full power.

But we were still out at sea.

The ocean's briny flavor stretched for miles in almost every direction.

Not to mention the speed of my recovery had been pumped up ever since I became Nekhbet's host. Having a goddess like her lounging around wasn't all bad. So when he tried to hit me with a frontal attack, it probably came as a shock when I took the punch head on, using the flat of my sword to stop him cold.

Around us, the ocean erupted in a spray.

Hundreds of gallons of water were displaced, my willpower the only thing keeping a small platform stable right beneath my feet. The shockwave screamed outward. His attack had been tremendous. His strength was unreal. He was comparable to Hyperion or Atlas in that regard. If it hadn't been for Nekhbet and the seawater, I'd have been flattened.

An unpleasant shiver crept down my neck.

Pushing him away, I slammed Riptide's pommel into his gut, cracking his dragon-motif suit. He grunted, and I crashed my other fist into his helmet. Vali floated back, staggered, chips of his metal armor flaking away.

My knuckles bled.

"You're strong," he said approvingly. "I'm surprised that you can keep up with me right now."

We charged each other. The next exchange was heated. I slashed, blocked, sidestepped, riposted; basically recalling everything I'd learned from Chiron and my past battles, Riptide blurring through the air as it did what it needed to do. When our blows struck true, after they came together with unyielding strength, water would fly and the ocean rippled.

I apologized to all the fish below us that had to swim for shelter.

Vali was good. No, he was better than good. He was probably the best hand-to-hand fighter I'd ever seen. I mean, that wasn't saying much since I hadn't seen many, but he kept pace with my swings, subtle changes in his posture being added each time I came close to inflicting severe damage. Most of my strikes glanced off his armor, though when we next separated, I could see dents and cuts running along is gauntlets and arms.

He obviously had experience fighting unarmed against sword-wielders. Typically, a bladed weapon would keep someone away if they only used their fists. Not Vali. He was relentless in his attack. All-in-all, the dude was scary, managing to hit me a few more times with his immense strength, the same **[Divide]** being called out each time his blows connected. My strength was sapped, but then returned thanks to the water after every hit.

That said, given our speed, I couldn't keep up my recovery to match his divisions. I really had to end the fight, otherwise, he would win.

Panting, I slashed my sword through the ocean, sending a fifty-foot wave at Vali. He braced himself, ripping past the wave, both wings wrapped around him.

He flew at me.

I made the water beneath me rise, flipping myself above Vali just enough so I could bring my foot down in an axe kick to his helmet.

The metal armor cracked further, and he was forced to pull away before the strength of my kick sent him careening into the sea. His swaying body told me I'd knocked a few marbles loose.

I got ready to attack him again, but someone chose that time to interfere.

"Now, now, Vali, I told you to investigate the irregularity, not make new friends."

Above us, a man drifted, kept aloft by twelve pitch black feathery wings. A playful smirk twisted the goatee on his chin. He must have dyed his hair, since most of it was black except for his bangs, which were an eye-catching gold.

I guess punk really isn't dead. This man could singlehandedly keep it alive.

"Azazel. I didn't think you'd come all this way," Vali huffed. His armor glowed white, then vanished, leaving him with only those blue robot wings.

"Honestly, I'd only realized my mistake in sending you for something like this a few minutes after you left. Jeez, seriously kid, why'd you have to prove me right?" Azazel crossed his arms. "I'm not sure if you know this, but not everything has to turn into a fight."

"Where's the fun in that?" Vali hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "I've been sitting at home all day. Everyone else was busy. I figured getting a quick fight would keep me level for a while longer."

Azazel chuckled. "You junkie." He turned to me and called, "Hey, you! What's your name, kid?"

I looked between Azazel and Vali. This wasn't an ideal situation. But I'd been in worse. Tartarus, for example, had been bad times. In fact, I'd written a review of the pit on TripAdvisor.

Needless to say, I gave it one star.

I couldn't rightfully give it zero stars since the atmosphere was just to die for. And now that I think about it, I wasn't fully recovered from the physical trauma of constantly drinking from the Phlegethon, breathing the acidic air, that little piece of _something_ breaking inside me when I tried to control Akhlys' poison surge . . .

 _Wow, Tartarus actually really sucked. Never mind. I'm changing the review. Zero stars it is._

"Aw, c'mon, no need to be shy," Azazel cajoled, gesturing with his hand. "I'm this punk's keeper. He won't try anything funny with me around."

That didn't make me feel better. "He attacked me for no reason," I pointed out.

"Vali is prone to random acts of violence," the man nodded. "But if he attacked you, that's because he thought you could handle it. He wasn't trying to kill you."

I guess he was right. For the most part, Vali hadn't thrown anything at me I couldn't take. "That still doesn't give me a reason to trust you."

Azazel shook his head, smirking. "Well, I can't say I'm not interested in hearing your story if you'd be willing to share. I mean, it's one thing to fly, but walking on water? I knew a guy who did that a long time ago. Are you some kind of poser?"

I wish it were as extraordinary as he made it sound. I mean, Hyperion had been able to do the same thing, so it stood to reason most other gods and Titans could do it. I couldn't speak for the Giants. Maybe Polybotes. Maybe not.

"He's a demigod," Vali said.

Vali went ahead and sank to a low-point by revealing my secret. I mean, it didn't matter all that much to me, since I'd probably have ended up telling this Azazel guy myself. Still, I thought it was rude of Vali, to speak for me. We could never be friends, I decided, especially if he was a tattletale.

 _Your sarcastic inner monologue is ruining the flow of their conversation_ , Nekhbet snidely informed me.

Azazel's eyebrow quirked. "A demigod? A nameless demigod, at that."

"Percy Jackson. Nice to meet you," I said, lowering Riptide.

"Oh? Was that so hard?"

This man was a master of biting sarcasm. I blew out a breath. "What are you?"

Azazel looked at Vali curiously. "Is he kidding?"

Vali smirked. He definitely had a bit of Azazel's attitude, now that I saw them side-by-side. "I don't think so. He didn't know what a Sacred Gear was. Had no reaction when I mentioned Divine Dividing."

"Now I'm very interested. A demigod with incredible fighting skills and above-average power, able to hold his own against one of, if not _the_ strongest White Dragon Emperor to date, who doesn't know anything about anything, and who was at the center of that irregular dimensional rift?" Azazel scratched his goatee. "That's too good to pass up right there."

"But, I'd rather pass, if you don't mind." I shrugged.

Searching my posture, he descended until we were eye level. "I'd like to talk with you a bit. So . . . are you hungry by any chance?"

* * *

 **Part IV**

* * *

Why did I agree to go with Azazel and Vali? A good question with an equally good answer: if they wanted to kill me, they were welcome to try. I wasn't too worried about it. Though Azazel did set me a bit on edge, I didn't get a feeling that he was the kind who would up and attack me without reason.

And in the end, following them worked out for me, since I was in a foreign land.

One of the first things I learned after we got back to the beach was that we weren't in America. When I asked Azazel about it, he told me I'd ended up falling just off the coast of Shirahama, Japan.

That had been more than a little surprising.

The next thing I learned was that Azazel was an angel. Or rather, he had once been an angel. But he fell from grace by having—in his exact words, not mine—hot, steamy, lustfully rough doggy-style sex with a human woman thousands of years ago. I didn't want to think about that too hard.

Anyway, now he was a fallen angel. God (yes, that's God with a capital G, Azazel kept assuring) had exiled him from Heaven for the sin.

Right, he'd gone ahead and explained some things to me, like how Christianity had supernatural factions, split between the main three of Devils, Fallen Angels, and just regular, boring Angels. Something about a Great War having wiped out a ton of the population on all sides.

God existed as the leader of Heaven. Four Devils, known as the Four Great Satans, ruled over their own species in the Underworld. And Azazel was one of the leaders of the fallen angels, heading the organization called "Gregory" or "Grigery" or something like that.

Truthfully, by the time we'd gotten to a restaurant, the adrenaline from fighting was flushed from my system. I felt hollow without that rush. Memories of my mom and Paul and Rachel and Thalia and Grover and Tyson and Annabeth kept popping up as I listened to Azazel go on. I nodded when it was appropriate, but a lot of his words just washed over me without registering. My eyes wandered to the other customers, enjoying their meals in relative silence.

Azazel had ordered for me after learning I couldn't speak a lick of Japanese. Once we'd gotten our food, I ate slowly.

It was probably good. I don't really remember.

"So now that you know a bit more about this place, be honest with me," Azazel said, putting his chopsticks over his bowl of noodles. "You're from an entirely different dimension, aren't you?"

Vali was staring at me intensely. He didn't look the type, but his appetite was ravenous. He'd demolished his plate in under five minutes. Not even a grain of rice remained. Meanwhile, I gently pushed some of my octopus to the side, struggling to use chopsticks. I'd never been good at using them.

"Yeah, I guess that must be the case," I said blandly.

After listening to him talk about all of these other factions and the Christian religion, I couldn't help but wonder what was going on.

Was I really in my world? Were my friends and family still alive? The questions burned hot in my mind.

There was a lot of media that said other dimensions existed, and at this point, it wasn't a stretch for me to think that the collapse of the Duat or falling into the Sea of Chaos had transported me elsewhere. Nekhbet also agreed with me on that.

"Will you tell me your story?" Azazel asked. He sounded polite, even if I caught a hint of buried hunger. I could tell he was eager to learn more. "Maybe start with who you are, since both Vali and I have introduced ourselves entirely."

Nekhbet didn't like the idea, and neither did I, but I decided to play along since he was paying for the food. Plus, I didn't get the feeling he was out to kill me.

So, I gave them the barebones summary of what had happened before I arrived. Setne, the Kanes, Annabeth, myself, Nekhbet, the Duat. From there, Azazel wanted to know more about my world in general. Again, I went through a truncated version of what I knew. Finally, both Vali and Azazel seemed interested in hearing about me. I briefly explained my side of the story regarding Kronos' and Gaea's resurrections.

Eventually, with a throat full of cotton, I wrapped it up: "I think I made the dragon angry. It told me to stop staring, then ripped open a portal and launched me through. And I ended up falling from the sky into the ocean."

Azazel whistled. "You met the Apocalypse Dragon. The Dragon of Dragons. The True Red Dragon God Emperor."

Vali's eyes were far away. "Great Red."

"You know him?" I asked, drinking some of my water.

"Kid, I don't think anybody really 'knows' Great Red, except for maybe Ophis," Azazel dabbed a napkin to his lips. "He doesn't involve himself with us plebeians. From what I understand, he keeps to himself, there in the Dimensional Gap where you met him."

"So that's what it's called? The Dimensional Gap?"

"Yeah. And speaking of which, it would seem the only reason you survived was because of that goddess you merged with." Azazel was staring at me unnervingly. "Mortals aren't able to stay there without powerful magic to guard them. The flux of energies tear them apart. Consider yourself blessed."

Nekhbet only hummed doubtfully at that.

I clenched the chopsticks. "Oh, sure, I'm the luckiest guy."

The angel laughed at me. "Don't be like that, kid. Just because everything you know and love is gone—your friends, girlfriend, family, collection of fetishistic porn—that doesn't mean you have to sulk so much."

I stared at Azazel with stinging eyes. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Not at all," he leaned over the table. "But everyone has dead people. We've all got baggage. Those connections you once had? Make new ones. Find a new group of friends. Get another girlfriend. Start a family, however big you want. Create another collection of porn; bigger, better, and more socially unacceptable than the last." Azazel jabbed a finger at me. "You're still alive, aren't you? Get over yourself, Percy Jackson. Do you think the world wants to listen to a whiny, brooding, self-absorbed child? Take it from the guy who once felt like he'd lost everything after one stupid mistake: the pity you have for yourself . . . it's worthless, pathetic, and the greatest form of vanity."

 _He's right, you know_ , Nekhbet said coolly. _Move on_. _I will feel much better once I can finally stop corralling all of these emotions._

"It isn't that easy," I muttered, running a finger over the rim of my glass of water.

Nekhbet was a goddess. Immortal. Emotionally, she and I were a far cry from each other. Maybe that's why we worked as a pair. She was so devoid of human emotion that I could put more of my trouble on her. But that was just my theory. I had no evidence, and if Nekhbet knew, she wasn't sharing.

Azazel straightened a few of his bangs. "It'll get easier. Once you find other fulfilling things, it'll get easier. Trust me on that."

I lost whatever appetite I had and set the chopsticks aside. My plate was still full of food. "I guess . . ."

"Good, good. Anyway, since we're on the subject, what are your plans for the future?"

I gave him a faint shrug.

"You're a gloomy fellow, you know that? But here's an offer: come work for me."

I looked at him. "Work? Work for you?"

"Sure! I mean," Azazel shoved Vali, who sat on his side of the table, "I've taken in strays before. Why not add another so we can all sing Kumbaya?"

Vali glared at his boss.

"And," Azazel continued, "it's not like you have anything going on. You have no money, can't speak Japanese, and have no other venue of support. Besides, I've never had such an interesting person drop into my lap before. A demigod merged with a god? I'd like to vivise—no, wrong word. I'd like to run a few non-invasive and completely painless examinations on you."

Now I was glaring at him too. Seriously, this guy was a magnet for other people's negative looks.

"Okay, okay, it was just a joke," he held his hands up. "Except for the first part. That, I was serious about."

"The Greek gods," I said. The idea had come to me suddenly, and I couldn't help but blurt it out. "Are they still around?"

Azazel nodded. "Yup. They're still out and about. Well, that's actually not quite the right term. Most of the major Greek gods stay in Olympus. The minor ones like to wander. But the twelve major gods play their cards close to their chest. Those damn jingoists."

"Maybe I should go visit them," I muttered. Even if I was in a new dimension, as Azazel believed, surely my father wouldn't be a total stranger, right? What were the odds of him having a completely different personality? And knowing him . . .

No, that was wrong. The thing is, I _didn't_ know my dad all that well to begin. He may have favored me back in my world, but not enough to break those old laws. I'd probably only talked to him for less than two hours in my whole life. Above all, he was a god. I was a mortal. I would die eventually, and he could always have another kid in the future.

"You could do that," Azazel agreed. "But to what end? Do you want to bring yourself more pain? Because let's face it, kid, that's all you'd be doing. Those gods aren't the ones you described to me in your story."

"I want to go anyway." My fist clenched. "I have to be sure."

I wouldn't stop until I knew the truth. I'd go back to New York. I'd see for myself, with my own two eyes, that the people I cared for were gone. Only then would I ever accept the possibility of moving on.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll see if I can't arrange something."

I stared at him. "I'm not asking for your help."

"I know. I'm offering."

Did this guy have a secret soft side or something? I started to worry about his motivations again. "Why would I need you to arrange something?"

"How else are you planning on getting into Olympus? Kid, remember, these aren't the gods you know. Like I said, the Greeks prefer keeping a low profile these days, and from what I recall, they still live in Greece, on the actual mountain of Olympus. Were you gonna march up to the gates of Olympus and demand an audience? Were you just gonna kick the doors open and tell them you're their long-lost relative from another dimension, sent here after fighting an Egyptian sorcerer and falling into the Sea of Chaos?"

Vali snorted. "If you want to do that second thing, invite me. The ensuing fight would be a fun one. Just be sure to give me some time to plan. I know a few people who'd be interested as well."

My shoulders sagged a little. I hadn't thought about how I would meet the Greeks of this world.

Yeah, if they were anything like the ones I knew, this world's Zeus would probably blast me to bits if I annoyed him enough. Or Ares would try to gut me. And if I got really unlucky, Athena would send an owl to gouge my eyes out or something.

The gods were a bunch of jerks.

"Well, what'll it be, kid? I can set you up with cash and a place to stay while I pull some strings and get you your meeting." Azazel leaned back in his seat. "Of course, I'll make you earn your keep."

I played with the water in my glass. "You aren't trying to make me sell my soul, are you?"

"Not at all! That isn't my kind of schtick."

"Then what do you get out of this?"

The man shrugged. "Honestly? An errand boy who won't start fights with everybody even remotely interesting. Not to mention a sparring buddy for Vali here, who sends too many of my soldiers to the infirmary every month."

Scoffing, Vali crossed his arms and looked away. "Your men are just weak."

Was that a blush I saw? Did I miss something? He was supposed to be a descendant of Lucifer. Where was the maniacal laughter and evil smiling?

I was still skeptical about Azazel's intentions. If he were a regular angel, I might take his word at face value. But he wasn't. "Just so we're clear, if I do accept, you aren't going to cut me open like a frog and harvest my organs or something, right?"

"Nothing so gruesome," Azazel waved my concern off. "Although, if you ever want to donate in the name of science . . ."

"No."

"Fair enough! Then I won't do anything like that. Deal?"

I thought about it. "Swear on the Styx."

Azazel quirked his eyebrow. I explained, "Where I'm from, an oath sworn on the River Styx is binding. Terrible punishment falls on someone who breaks their oath. At least, that's how it's supposed to work. Never actually seen that happen."

He hummed. "If you insist. I swear, upon the River Styx, not to go through with any vivisections or organ harvests on Percy Jackson. Unless he's okay with it."

"Fat chance," I mumbled.

I waited for thunder to rumble, but it never came.

Maybe, then, I shouldn't have accepted, since there weren't any solid guarantees on my safety. But after the day I'd had, my level of caring was low. He was offering to pay me and give me a place to stay for whatever services I'd provide. That was a hard bargain, considering I'd only ever been offered payment once by the gods in my old world, and that was after I'd helped save their thrones.

Of course, their method of payment had been trying to gift me godhood. So maybe they decided to overcompensate.

 _How could you turn that down?_ Nekhbet screeched in my mind, starting her rant all over again, basically picking up where she'd left off when we'd been fighting Setne. _To be a god is the pinnacle of power._

I tuned her out and looked at Azazel. His offer could have been a trap, a way for me to lower my guard so they could strike when I least expected it. But if that was their game, then fine. If they wanted to kill me, I'd let them try. They weren't the first, and I seriously doubted they would be the last. Maybe if I met my monthly quota of near-death experiences, this place could feel more like home.

Mind made up, I held my hand out. "Okay, I'm in. For now. When do I start, boss?"

Azazel seemed satisfied, taking my hand with his. "Immediately. I'll talk to my secretary to see about meeting the Greeks. That might take a few months, though. In the meantime, I have some simple jobs to help ease you into our arrangement."

I hadn't known it then, but with that handshake, I was set on a path that would eventually lead to me meeting an entirely new group of heroes, brought together by a kid with the ridiculous dream of becoming Harem King.

A dream, I might add, he actually managed to fulfill.

* * *

 **End Chapter**


	2. II

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or Highschool DxD.**

* * *

2\. Learning, Working, and Turning up the Heat

* * *

 **Part I**

* * *

I woke up the next morning in an awkward situation.

A young girl with blonde hair stared at me curiously, standing a few feet from where I rested in bed.

Everything about it actually reminded me of when I first got to Camp Half-Blood. Annabeth had taken care of me after my fight with the minotaur. She'd been one of the first people I awoke to see, along with Argus.

I closed my eyes again, taking a second to steady my breathing after a small hitch.

 _Are you still complaining?_ Nekhbet asked.

My attention switched to her. _Can you not start right now?_

She huffed but kept quiet as I went from reminiscing to figuring out where I was. Better to keep my mind occupied than let it go back to those memories.

Things came back to me from yesterday.

Azazel, Vali, and I had left the restaurant almost as soon as we'd made our agreement. Then, Azazel said something about a Cheez-It and disappeared down some alley, which left me with only Vali's company.

After Azazel had gone, Vali and I talked for a little while longer, mostly about my time bearing the Curse of Achilles. Vali had been really interested in my invincibility.

But after that, I kept drawing a blank.

The situation almost sounded like I'd been out partying and got into Mr. D's secret stash of vintage wine. But, I had to remind myself that Mr. D might not exist in this world.

Not the Mr. D I knew, at least. In this world, he'd probably just have me call him Dionysus.

In this world . . .

Even though I kept repeating that phrase, I still had a hard time believing it.

"Um, are you okay, Sir?"

My eyes opened again.

Next to me, the young girl stood with her arms behind her back. She looked ready to go trick-or-treating; a pointy witch's hat on her head and a fluttery cape around her shoulders telling me as much.

Right, I'd almost forgotten that October 31 was a couple of weeks away. I would have to thank this girl since she woke me up just in time for Halloween. I'd give her half my candy in exchange to fulfill my debt to her. Maybe the candy corn. I didn't like candy corn.

But what did I want to go as? Maybe a pirate? No, no, that reminded me too much of C.C.'s and being turned into a guinea pig. Zombie wouldn't have been a bad choice . . . if it didn't remind me of Tartarus and Akhlys.

The girl fidgeted. I realized she was probably waiting for me to say something instead of just staring at her.

In truth, apart from my thoughts on Halloween, I couldn't stop myself from just . . . looking at the girl. Her hair, a vivid golden-blonde mass which curled near her shoulders, brought back heart-rending memories. Sure, her eyes were a far cry from storm-gray, and her face was more angular—the features of nobility—but this girl, and this situation, took my mind to Camp Half-Blood, to Chiron and Grover and the minotaur and . . .

Pushing the covers off my body, I sat up, still fully dressed in yesterday's clothes.

"Ah! Are you sure you should be sitting up?" The girl started glancing over me with wide eyes, her hands flailing, just barely hovering over different parts of my body. "Lord Vali said you two fought yesterday."

Lord Vali? What the heck. He made this little girl call him "Lord Vali"? That was pretty creepy.

I debated calling the police: _Yes, officer, that's him, that's the man right there._

"No, I'm fine," I swung my legs over the bed's edge. "I've been through worse. But, uh, who are you? And how long were you standing there for?"

The girl clapped her hands together and smiled, hopping toward me daintily. "I'm Le Fay Pendragon! Nice to meet you, Sir!"

"Le Fay?"

She nodded, her hand held out to me as she bowed. "It's a pleasure!"

I shook her hand. "Yeah, ditto."

"So you're sure you feel all right?" Le Fay asked, peering at me from every angle. She hummed. "I'm impressed! Lord Vali takes his fights to the extreme sometimes. It's great to see you up and walking already!"

Unnerving and ominous as that sounded, I shook it off. Instead, I focused on how she'd never answered my second question.

"Le Fay, you aren't asking our guest too many personal questions, I hope."

I looked to my left. There, standing in an open doorway, an immaculately dressed man watched us. He cleaned a pair of metal-rimmed glasses with some cloth, but even so, his eyes fell on me, a hint of life inside them.

"She's been good," I defended. "No need to worry, I just woke up anyway."

The man put his glasses on. "Very well. Pleasure to meet you. I am Arthur Pendragon."

"Percy Jackson," I introduced. "Pendragon, huh? Related?"

Upon closer inspection, I came to the conclusion that _yes_ , they must have been siblings. They shared blonde hair and blue eyes, although both colors were just a shade duller on Arthur than Le Fay.

She was bright, whereas he was subdued.

It wasn't just their personalities, then.

The parallel might have been a little on-the-nose and unwarranted, but I'm no detective. That said, I wasn't discouraged from looking around and finally taking note of the room I'd been given.

Last night still felt like a blur. I didn't remember much of what happened after the restaurant, especially not details about where Vali had brought me.

My first thought on the room was that it was oddly normal.

It wasn't much bigger than the one at my mom's apartment. A queen-size bed, white nightstand, and low dresser were the only pieces of furniture I'd been allowed. Other than those things, the place looked pitifully bland.

No pictures hung on the walls. And that dull white paint? I hoped Vali fired his interior decorator A.S.A.P.

 _Your mind is ever the cluttered mess. Maybe even after the Sea of Chaos,_ Nekhbet complained. She tried to force her way into the driver's seat of my body. _Move aside, I will devour both of them and give you some better organization._

 _Hey, hey, hey!_ I fought against the feeling of being pulled from the forefront of my mind. _You aren't eating anybody here, okay? Calm down and put your seatbelt back on._

She jostled me. _At least let me stretch my legs._

 _So help me if you don't get back in your booster seat._ I pushed her away.

Arthur cleared his throat in front of me, giving me the final edge I needed over Nekhbet in our struggle. I quickly threw her in the back seat.

"Sorry, did you say something?" I blinked at Arthur.

"I was saying that Le Fay is my sister."

No surprise there. "Right, makes sense to me."

Arthur gestured for Le Fay, and she went over to him. He nodded at me. "Vali tells me you're a swordsman. He compares us to some extent. If you aren't too busy today, I'd like to see your skills for myself."

"Big Bro is the best with a sword," Le Fay added, complete assurance written on her face. She sounded just a bit more serious than before. "If you do fight, please, be very careful, the both of you! Kuroka is out, and won't be able to heal you if you're badly hurt!"

I looked at them. "Keurig Cup?"

Arthur said, "Kuroka. You might meet her and Bikou later. They're also part of Vali's team, like Le Fay and I."

"I knew Vali was the boy-band type."

Arthur gave me a faint smile while Le Fay giggled. The girl stepped away from the door. "Are you hungry, Sir? It's still early in the morning, so it wouldn't be a bother if I made us all some breakfast, would it?"

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

Le Fay's talent for cooking could be summed up with one word: exceptional.

Breakfast had been fantastic. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, sliced bananas . . . honestly, Le Fay didn't seem too far removed from mothering Arthur and me the entire morning. It felt like she was used to taking care of people, which made me wonder.

She looked to be in her early teenage years, maybe just starting high school. What was she doing hanging out with a guy like Vali? It didn't make sense to me, which seemed to be a theme for the past couple of days.

After breakfast, I'd been given the official tour of the house.

Except it wasn't a house.

It was an entire compound. My room was just one in a long line down a hallway filled with chandeliers, its length spanned by a plush rug. And the best part? The compound was in the Underworld.

This world's Underworld, that is. I recalled Azazel saying that _this_ Underworld housed both fallen angels and devils, which meant it couldn't have been _my_ Underworld. I did have to wonder, though, what happened to Hades.

Where did that old bag of bones go?

If the Greek gods were alive, I assumed that meant Hades still sat around, doing his whole, _Give me your soul, foolish mortal!_ thing.

That said, if he didn't live in the Underworld, I wondered where he decided to set up shop. Some dank, dark cave far from civilization definitely fit his style.

Seriously, that guy brooded too much.

"And this is the courtyard!" Le Fay announced as we stepped through a pair of doors into an enclosed space outside. People walked around, talking to each other, giving us mild glances. There, I got my first sense of _this_ Underworld's general vibe.

"Uh, your sky is—purple?" I pointed out the obvious to my tour guides.

"Day and night!" Le Fay chirped.

"It gets a little monotonous," Arthur added.

Personally, I didn't mind the sky's color.

Hades' domain had basically been just one, massive (and I mean _massive_ ) cavern. The ceiling had stalactites growing from it, and ugly mist clung at ankle-level, making it hard to see what the next step brought. It was also dimly lit and had a vague sense of doom to it.

Overall, I'd rate _my_ Underworld one step above Tartarus.

This place didn't seem so bad, though.

The courtyard we stepped into extended far and wide. A big, thirty-foot fountain spewed water, shrubs and trees took space in plotted gardens throughout, and the walkways were inlaid with well-maintained sett.

It looked great.

"Across from us is the research and development complex," Le Fay said, pointing past the fountain, where a pair of doors sat in the middle of the adjacent building, where scientists in lab coats entered and exited. "Governor Azazel hangs out there a lot in his off-time. Even though he's the Governor-General of Fallen Angel-dom, it's pretty well-known that at heart, he's always been a researcher."

"What does he research?" I asked.

"All sorts of things," Arthur said. "But his passion is for Sacred Gears."

 _There's that name again._

Nekhbet hummed. _Clearly, these Sacred Gears are more of a feature than either of us were made aware. Though, maybe that shouldn't surprise us._

 _Shouldn't it?_

I got the impression Nekhbet was about to go all "Annabeth's Lecture Mode" on me. She said, _Take the Lucifer boy into consideration. He said his Sacred Gear was Divine Dividing, which gave him the ability to halve the power of whatever he last touched and add it to himself. That isn't something to underestimate. And this is only one Sacred Gear. How many more are out there which have similar, if not greater, abilities?_

"Good point," I mumbled to myself.

"What was that?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, nothing, I was just talking to the voice in my head."

The siblings stared at me.

Vali apparently hadn't told them about me leasing my body to a god. I probably sounded crazy, which is exactly what I needed. I'd always hoped people would look at me like I belonged in an asylum.

Truthfully, I already half expected to wake up one day in a padded room, learning that I'd just imagined everything about gods, half-bloods, and monsters.

 _Jackson, I am very much real,_ Nekhbet growled.

 _That's what they all say._

 _Shut up._

"Anyway!" Le Fay cut me off before I could respond to my pet vulture. "Why don't we go see if Lord Vali is available?"

"Right, where is Vali?" I scanned the courtyard. Benches took up some space by rose beds and tulip gardens, where dark-winged angels sat, chatting, generally just chilling out under the purple sky.

Le Fay tipped her hat back. "Probably at our training spot. He's been meditating recently, hoping to reach the next point of his Sacred Gear's evolution."

Almost as an afterthought, she added, "He's hoping to fight you again, by the way."

Oh, wonderful. Apparently, I had nothing better to do than fight. Then again, Azazel had said one of my duties would be sparring with Vali. As long as I got paid, I guess I couldn't complain.

My mom and I never lived in the lap of luxury. I admired her tenacity though, and how her attitude never let the lack of money bring her down too much. If she wanted to do something, she wouldn't wait for someone else to make it happen. Instead, she would _make_ the opportunity for herself, with her own hands.

Who wouldn't admire a person like that?

Fingers curling so hard my knuckles ached, I took a second to get away from those thoughts.

Nekhbet told me, _Breathe, Jackson. Just . . . breathe._

 _If you try anything,_ I warned.

She scoffed. _I will do as I see fit. For now, I will cooperate with you._

I wondered why she would bother. Yesterday, inside the Dimensional Gap, she wanted to say more, but the dragon interrupted us.

Arthur cleared his throat, making it the second time he'd broken me out of my trance.

"Sorry," I muttered, awkwardly shuffling in place. "Let's go see Vali, I guess."

* * *

 **Part III**

* * *

Their gym was bigger than the arena back at camp.

Nekhbet growled. _Don't go there again, Jackson._

"So what do you think so far?" Le Fay asked, smiling. She was a very expressive person, from what I'd gleaned.

Blue and yellow wrestling mats covered the floor while mirrors lined the walls. Workout equipment sat around the edges of the room; treadmills, stair climbers, ellipticals, bench presses, and racks of dumbells all found a home somewhere in the mix. At one end was a boxing ring. Fluorescent tubes on the ceiling cast every inch of the gym in cold white light.

A powerful disinfectant oozed in the air, sharp as bleach and only a little more tolerable. My nose hairs curled at the scent.

"It's a nice place you've got here," I nodded. "But, uh, where's Vali?"

Arthur started to say something, but a cheerful voice spoke over him from the top of the stairs.

"Glad to see you all getting along so swimmingly. To answer your question, I'm having Vali work on something nice and dreary as punishment for attacking you yesterday."

Azazel came into the gym, dressed in beige Asian robes, a casual smile on his face when he stepped onto the mats.

"Ah! Governor!" Le Fay gave him a big wave. "Welcome!"

Arthur bowed his head. "Azazel."

The Angel gave them both a nod, then looked at me. "How's it hanging, kid?"

An image of those cat posters that said _Hang in there!_ popped to my mind. The school counselor back at Goode loved those things. She always handed out little flyers with that kind of picture to the kids coming into her office.

"I've been better." I shrugged. "But I've also been worse. What's up? You didn't have to punish Vali for my sake. I'm not angry or anything."

Azazel chuckled. "You're a tough bastard, eh? Nice. Anyway, I've come to give you an obligatory set-up for your first job."

"You're putting me to work already?" I asked. I couldn't believe he would start me so soon. I deserved more than just one night's rest, right? "I might be getting this wrong, but isn't this against the Eighth Amendment?"

"Too bad we aren't in America," Azazel smirked.

"Diplomatic immunity?" I asked.

"If you want better worker's rights, start a union."

"Dude . . ."

"Did you expect anything else from a Fallen Angel like myself?"

True enough. He'd read my mind saying that. I really hadn't expected him to be the kind to play fair. But hey, a guy can dream of being treated fairly, right?

 _Let's destroy him_ , Nekhbet suggested eagerly. _I bet he tastes like a crow._

I rolled my eyes. That happened a lot with her, I noticed. _You really have a one-track mind, don't you?_

 _And you don't?_ she shot back. _Don't fool yourself into believing you're different._

"What's the job?" I asked.

Azazel shrugged. "My secretary—the one who's trying to get you in with the Greeks—is up to her eyes in paperwork. She needs some help in her office to get things sorted and responded to. I offered her your service for the next week or, at least, until those mountains of papers are gone."

That was new. "You want me . . . to sort paperwork?"

He nodded.

"Only that? No ulterior motives? The paperwork isn't cursed to make me speak in tongues or something, right?"

Azazel chuckled. "You're a really paranoid guy."

"I think my life warrants that."

"True enough. Still, you're gonna have to learn to trust me eventually."

"Debatable."

How many times had I fallen into a trap at this point in my life, anyway? I'd trusted a lot of people before, and I would say more than half of those times I got burned. Not to brag or anything, but my ability to expect and tolerate betrayal had grown exponentially. Even if Azazel acted all buddy-buddy with me now, he could easily turn at the drop of a hat. I wouldn't be caught off guard if that happened.

And if I _was_ caught off guard, then at the very least, I'd act like I wasn't. For appearance's sake, if nothing else.

And speaking of appearances . . .

"Before I start helping your secretary, d'you mind if I take a shower first?" I asked.

Yesterday had been one heck of a journey. I'd been expecting to go on a nice date with Annabeth, maybe catch a movie and hit some greasy fast-food joint, but that hadn't happened. Instead, I'd fallen through spooky water, lava, and the Egyptian embodiment of chaos.

How had my clothes even survived that? How do they survive any of what I go through? The god of clothing must be partial to me or something, I swear, because there's no way cotton and polyester could take the beatings I give my wardrobe.

"Sure. The room you woke up in is yours. Feel free to use the amenities as you see fit, oh assistant of mine," Azazel told me. He looked at Arthur. "Do you mind lending him some of your clothing?"

I wanted to protest, but Arthur was already nodding.

Formalwear didn't really appeal to me. My mom had never been able to afford anything as posh as a tux. Besides, as a demigod, I needed function over form. It wasn't like I was trying to impress the monsters that came after me.

The day a monster stopped and said, _Sorry for attacking you. I didn't see you were wearing the Dolce and Gabbana three-piece. I'll just be on my way!_ was the day I would unironically call Ares my favorite Olympian.

In other words: never happening.

"Uh, don't go out of your way for me," I said.

Arthur shrugged, placid as could be. "It's no trouble. You and I share body types. I'll find something that fits your aesthetic."

With that, he left, just up and walked away, putting the matter to rest.

Before he reached the top of the stairs leading back into the living quarters, I called out, "At least get me something I can move in!"

I hoped he had heard me. The last thing I needed was to be stuck fighting another god-like person in a penguin suit.

"Anyway, Le Fay, thanks for taking care of Percy here this morning." Azazel smiled at the girl, who gave him a little salute.

"Just doing what needed to be done! I also ran those tests Lord Vali said you wanted!" she said, blatantly disregarding the fact that I was, indeed, standing right there, gawking at them.

I looked to Azazel. "What the heck?"

He raised his hands defensively, laughing. "Well you weren't cut open, and all of your organs are still in your body! I kept my word! It was a totally non-invasive diagnostic. Right, Le Fay?"

Le Fay nodded. "Yup! Lord Vali told me Governor Azazel wanted to see if you had any magical potential."

"You couldn't have, oh I dunno, just _asked_ me?" I crossed my arms in disbelief.

"Oh, um, t-that's . . ." Le Fay pulled the front of her hat down a little. "S-sorry."

Even if I wanted to be angry at her, there was no way with how she practically deflated in front of me, like a bounce house collapsing in on itself. Seeing her smile slip away made my stomach turn.

Azazel looked at me as if to say, _Now you've gone and done it._

I refused to take the blame for this, though. "Don't worry about it, Le Fay. I'm not angry at you. Azazel should know better than to tell other people to do his dirty work, considering how old he is."

"Guilty as charged," he said. "Be that as it may, could you tell me what you found out, Le Fay?"

The girl seemed to have regained some of her confidence and cheer. "Sure! Um, let's see, well I suppose it's more complicated than you probably would have liked, actually."

Both Azazel and I raised an eyebrow at her.

She fidgeted but pushed her hat back with a thumb. "I mean, a lot of humans have the potential to use magic, though their talent varies."

"Let me guess, I don't have any potential?" I asked.

"Well, magic is just knowing how to calculate equations. Human magic, that is. Anybody can do that if they learn the proper formulas. A lot of magic has been recorded since the time of Merlin Ambrosius. Think of it like differential equations . . . or calculus . . . manipulating infinitesimals . . . stuff like that!"

Math? Was she telling me magic was just mathematics? And stuff like calculus, to top it off? This girl couldn't have been older than fourteen. Was she a genius? She must have been a genius, I decided.

"Okay," I stopped her, "let's pretend I've only ever gotten through integrated algebra, and that what you're talking about is— _hypothetically_ —a bit above my skill level."

Le Fay waved her hands around frantically. "I-I didn't mean to put you off of the idea. Like I said, there's already a lot of magic with the calculations spelled out to the letter. For magicians these days, it's mostly just meticulous memorization. At least, until you choose a discipline to devote yourself to."

"So everybody can use magic?" The thought scared me a little.

"Almost everybody." Le Fay cleared her throat. "While it's true memorizing equations isn't exactly an act of greater mystery, everybody has a limit on how much magic they can cast. The limit varies from person to person. But there are also those born with practically no magical potential because casting even the most simple spell would surpass that limit."

"Am I one of those people?" I asked. That would be on par with my luck so far.

She opened her mouth, closed it, thought hard, then finally shrugged. "I found a reserve of power inside of you upon examination . . . something . . . a little scary . . . but I can't say exactly what it was. Not magic. At least, not any that I've felt. I can say it runs deep, though. Very deep."

I wondered what to think about that.

 _She probably felt my power, the little morsel,_ Nekhbet said. _She should know better than to intimate she can understand the power of a god! Let us destroy her._

"So no teleportation magic for our friend here, huh?" Azazel hummed, rubbing his chin softly. "That does put a damper on the tasks I was hoping to give him. Ah, man, I really should've screened him properly yesterday."

Teleportation magic? If I recalled correctly, Hermes told me the teleportation thing gods did was a form of air travel, faster than the eye could see.

Was that true? It sounded a little unbelievable. And if it _was_ a form of air travel, Zeus would probably slap me out of the sky like he was spiking a volleyball.

Surprisingly, I was allergic to being slapped out of the sky. Hives, sinus congestion, this weird inner-ear thing, spontaneous bouts of severe anxiety; basically, the whole nine yards. I typically tried to avoid all that nasty business.

"Guess I'll just have to find a place to put you where you won't have to move around much," Azazel said, still doing the arbitrary ' _Chin Stroke of Wisdom_ ' all middle-aged men seemed to pick up on. "Well, that can wait 'til after you help Penemue."

"Penny-Mii? What's that?"

Azazel smirked at me. "What indeed. Go take your shower. Le Fay, please guide him to our secretary's office once he's done freshening up."

The girl bowed. "I'll do my best."

"Why are you making her do it?" I asked, a bit off-put how quickly Le Fay just accepted waiting for me to shower.

Azazel turned around and started walking away, his robes gracefully swishing along with him. "I'm a busy man. You'll have to forgive me if I can't hold your hand at all times while you adjust to this new life of yours."

* * *

 **Part IV**

* * *

Le Fay guided me back to my room, where I used the adjoining bathroom to get cleaned up.

Showering had been an oddly tense affair. It was the first time I was able to think about everything that had happened to me in a rough twenty-four hour span of time.

 _Setne_.

My fingers curled around the shower handle when I turned the water off.

This was his fault. He'd sent me here.

Nekhbet squawked in agreement. _Yes, he was the one to cause this. He should be glad he's already dead. I would see him ripped apart._

Water dripped off my chin. I'd gotten shampoo in my eyes. They stung fiercely. Anger twisted around, coiling tightly around my heart, squeezing hard. I had started seeing red.

"How am I even still alive?" I asked her.

 _I'm not sure,_ Nekhbet conceded. I felt a few of her feathers ruffling. _Be that as it may, I won't have you sulk over the fact. We still live. We are strong. Stronger together, I suppose._

"You're oddly supportive," I muttered after drying myself off. I went back into the bedroom with my towel around my waist.

Sitting on the bed was a fresh set of clothing.

White dress shirt? Check.

Slim black trousers with a belt? Check.

A two-toned vest, purple in front and black on the back? Check.

Black socks and a pair of slick black loafers? Double check.

Nekhbet spoke while I got dressed. _I've been having trouble adjusting to this new arrangement of ours, is all. I never did like taking hosts. All of them were weak. Disgusting. But you . . . aren't weak. Without the crown of Upper Egypt, I will grudgingly admit my own power is diminished._

Standing in front of a mirror, I tugged at the collar of my shirt, undoing the top two buttons to breathe a little easier. "So you get nicer as you get weaker?"

She screeched at me, _How dare you insinuate such a ridiculous thing!_

I winced. Wrong choice of words, I realized. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just wondering why you're trying to be so cooperative."

 _Because I don't have a choice anymore, you fool! If I could have left your body, I would have already. There is certainly something odd about it now. I don't know what it is. I feel more restricted than normal. It's quite stifling._

Frowning, I slipped the vest on. I tested my mobility. There was a bit of stiffness in my arms and shoulders, so I folded the shirt's sleeves up to both my elbows.

"We're stuck together, then?" I asked. I won't lie and say the prospect didn't nauseate me just a little.

This had never been the plan. She was supposed to stay only as long as it took to stop Setne. But now . . .

A sigh forced its way out of me. I didn't often sigh since it honestly made me feel like a jerk in conversations, but I'd make an exception with Nekhbet, considering all she did was make me want to sigh or roll my eyes.

No, seriously. It was a constant struggle. If I ever went to therapy, _this_ part of my life would be highlighted the most. "Nekhbet" would be the name my therapist would become most familiar with.

Did Azazel give me health insurance? Would my therapy be covered?

 _Unfortunately for me, fortunately for you, yes, I cannot_ — _I cannot vacate. It would seem you have become my permanent host. I am . . . bound to this mortal shell until you die._

I rolled my eyes. (See, it's like a natural reflex whenever she talks.)

"You make it sound like I should be happy about this," I said, tucking my shirt in and fastening the belt. The pants fit really well. "But believe me, I'd rather be laughing at some cheesy rom-com with . . . I'd rather do a hundred other things than dress up like a butler in the dam Underworld."

 _You should be groveling on your knees, prostrate before me._

"Not gonna happen."

She chuckled. _That's why I can abide by this. You have strength. Even without me, I've seen what you can do. I can't say I'm not impressed. Between you and Carter Kane, however, I would have rather been with him._

"Because he's Egyptian?"

 _Because he has royal blood. The bloodline passed down by pharaohs! He could have become my Eye._

I shivered. "Um, gross? Don't you have two eyes already?"

 _The term,_ Nekhbet started in lecture-mode again, _refers to a perfect union between host and god. The pinnacle of merging. We would have, great, great power . . ._

She trailed off, and I could feel the drool dripping from her beak at the thought of all that power she was talking about.

 _For a demigod like you to become the Eye of Nekhbet? Would that make me the most powerful god? It must. I could overthrow Horus and Ra. I could become the new ruler. The most powerful! I could finally get the television remote in the gods' lounge and change the channel to National Geographic!_ Nekhbet started muttering to herself faster.

A knock at my door made me jump in surprise. Riptide was in my hand, but when Le Fay asked if she could enter, I put it back in my pocket.

I said, "Come in, I'm just getting my shoes on."

"Ah! You look much better! Arthur has such good taste in clothing, right?" She scrutinized me, nodding at random intervals.

While I would admit the clothes definitely seemed nice, they just weren't my style. My first paycheck from Azazel would go toward getting me something more my speed.

These would do for now though, even if I _did_ look like a butler.

 _Oh please, Jackson. This suits you just fine._

"I'm ready," I told Le Fay, slipping the last shoe on.

She nodded. "One more thing. Some reports you read might be from different countries. Russia, Italy, Greece, Turkey, France. The Grigori is a widespread organization. You might need at least a few languages added to your repertoire. Governor Azazel told me you could only speak English, right?"

"Born and raised in the States, but hit me with Ancient Greek and I'll understand that too." I patted my pants smooth. "Why don't Fallen Angels just pick one language to use? Wouldn't that be easier for them?"

"Fallen Angels, Devils, and Angels can all understand and speak any language. But, some of the reports may be written by humans working with the Grigori. Those guys are probably just going to write in their own language, expecting the receiving party to understand the message."

"Gotcha. So, what, are you going to cast a spell so I can understand every language?" I asked, chuckling.

"Close!" Le Fay said, sounding genuinely surprised for some reason. "I can't do every language, but you should be fine with just the Romance languages for now."

I blinked. "Uh, okay. I guess that works. So how's this gonna go down?"

She just smiled at me.

A second later, a series of orange glyphs circled my body. They were similar to the hieroglyphs that Carter and Setne used, except I could tell Le Fay wasn't channeling Egyptian magic.

With a snap of her fingers, the glyphs changed color, cycling through a variety of shades. With each swap, Le Fay called out the name of a language.

"French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian . . . and that should do it! We won't touch the Slavic languages. Wouldn't want to fry your brain with this rushed casting!" Le Fay clapped her hands happily, as if she hadn't just given me that singularly terrifying prospect.

"I do prefer my brain staying un-fried." I watched the glyphs float away. "Did it work?"

"If it didn't, I'd have to stop calling myself a magician!" she said with a cute laugh. Her eyes glimmered as she pointed at me. "Now let's get you to Penemue's office. She'll be happy to have some help, I'm sure."

* * *

 **Part V**

* * *

Penny-Mii's office was situated beyond the R&D complex, in the administration section of the estate.

If I didn't have an appreciation for how large the compound was before, making my way to the secretary's office on foot sure gave me an understanding of how expansive the place was.

Eventually, after walking down countless metal corridors, passing plenty of electronic sliding doors and blast-resistant windows, and moving into the posh administrative office block, Le Fay stopped in front of a gilded door. There was a name plaque placed dead-center of the black wood.

After a short struggle with my dyslexia, I finally managed to read a single word.

PENEMUE

 _Okay, that sounds like it should be spelled Penny-Mii,_ I told Nekhbet as she chortled in my mind.

"Here we are!" Le Fay said proudly.

She gestured at the area around us. The floor had changed from metal in the R&D complex to some kind of stone for administration. A few more office doors occupied the space of the lobby we'd entered. Chairs were placed along the walls, along with magazine racks and fake hibiscus plants.

"Penemue, Tamiel, and Barakiel all have their offices in this block," Le Fay said. "Just across from us is where Azazel, Shemhaza, and Kokabiel have their offices. Armaros and Sahariel have their own offices too, but they spend too much time in the labs."

I nodded, sure that she'd just told me the names of important people, but not sure what to do with that information.

"Anyway, I'm off," she saluted. "Arthur and I have a meeting to keep in London. Best be off before people start shouting at us. I hope we can hang out with the rest of Lord Vali's team soon, Sir!"

Before I could even give her a response, she whirled around, jogging down the hall we'd just come from, her hand waving at me as she retreated.

"Glad to know people ignoring me is still a thing."

 _Don't complain. If you become a wallflower, you can always strike first in their moment of weakness!_ Nekhbet cawed roughly. _They will regret ever turning their back to me._

"Of all the gods." I shook my head at the thought, hoping Nekhbet hadn't caught the slip.

Unfortunately, my luck never held out for more than a few seconds at best. I must have done something to Tyche in a past life. Maybe I'd accidentally run over her cat with a carriage. Or maybe I'd asked her for too many favors and ticked her off.

Whatever the case, she never wanted to do me a solid.

 _You should be grateful I ever considered jumping into this flesh-shell_.

"Hey, lady, can you not refer to my body as a _flesh-shell_." I shuddered at the way that term rolled off my tongue. "You aren't exactly warming me up to you anymore."

Nekhbet huffed. _As if I need anything positive from someone like you._

With that pleasant comment, she receded and let me focus on the door.

I knocked.

A few seconds later, the door swung open. Blocking my view of the inner office was a tall woman with hair long enough to reach her waist and purple enough to make Barney do a double-take.

"You must be the other one Azazel sent my way?" she asked, crossing her arms under her chest. She was dressed almost exactly like I was, except her sleeves weren't rolled up, and she'd chosen to wear a tie along with her shirt and vest. I thought the outfit looked a lot better on her than it did on me. "Welcome to your personal hell."

"Thanks, glad to be back," I said. "You're Penemue?"

Her thin purple eyebrow inched up, a sliver of amusement forcing her lips into a crooked axis. "Not worried? Most people don't like going to hell."

"Eh," I shrugged helplessly. "I've been already. Met its personification. Zero stars. It's generally unpleasant, but my girlfriend dragged me along, so I didn't have a choice. Not a good date destination, trust me. Save your money and take a trip to Paris instead."

Her smirk bent even further. "Sounds like a bad girlfriend. You should reconsider that relationship."

I stared at her, my face drawing up into something sour.

Penemue suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. Come in. Your partner is already in here. He's been working for a couple of hours already."

"Partner?" I asked, trying to loosen my frown.

She waited for me to pass into the office, closing the door behind me.

Huge windows on either side of the room let in the Underworld's purplish glow. The ceiling's arched vault almost made me feel like I'd just walked into a cathedral. Mosaics decorated the edges of the room, half hidden behind rows of bookshelves and filing cabinets.

At the far end of the room was a large fireplace. Several feet in front of that was a decorated desk with gold trim and curved legs.

And on that desk, I saw stacks of paperwork almost twice as tall as Penemue. My eyes ached already, preemptively knowing how hard I'd have to work them.

I was about to complain, but someone else beat me to the punch.

"This is ridiculous."

Vali came out from behind the mountain of paperwork, holding a folder in his hand, dark bags under his sharp eyes.

At first, he didn't seem to notice us. He took a seat at a small school desk near the windows. From his slouch and grouchy face, it almost looked like he was a kid that had been put in time-out by the teacher for being disruptive.

"Azazel told me," Penemue jabbed her thumb at Vali, "I have you to thank for this guy being here today."

Vali glanced over from his seat. When his eyes landed on me, they widened by a margin, then went back to normal. "Percy Jackson. Awake already?"

"You don't have to be _that_ surprised," I said. "I'm good at getting back in the saddle."

"Glad to hear it." Vali opened the folder and flicked through the files inside. "That means we can fight again today, right?"

Penemue coughed. "You two can plan your date later. For now, we have papers to sort through."

I stared at the mountain on her desk. "This . . . might take a while."

"Oh, you have _no idea_ , kiddo," Penemue chuckled. She pointed at another small desk by the back corner, close to her own workstation. "I put you by me in case you had questions. It should be pretty straightforward, though. Reports on Sacred Gear bearers are a top priority; give those to me. Sort messages to the other leaders into piles. All requests for pay-raises are to be denied with the red stamp."

She led me to my desk and pointed at a binder full calendar pages. "Fill appointments in to the best of your ability. If no reason for the visit is stated in the letter, assume it's not urgent. If it sounds important, pull them to a closer time slot. And that should about cover it."

I went over the guidelines in my head again. It didn't sound too hard, though I doubted my ability to correctly label people for appointments.

"Think you can handle it?" Penemue asked.

Doubtfully, I said, "I'll give it a shot."

She smiled. "That's the spirit. Like I said, if you have questions, I'm just a few feet away."

* * *

 **Part VI**

* * *

Penemue left for lunch a few hours into our slog.

They say that war is a terrible thing. And I have to agree. The war we waged on the paperwork had already claimed one life. Penemue was gone. Now only Vali and I were left to stem the tide of neverending reports, claims, and messages. But no matter how hard we fought, it felt like we never made a dent.

Losing Penemue had been a big hit to my resolve. I couldn't keep going. No, I didn't _want_ to keep going. War is all hell.

My hand cramped as I finished filling in another appointment for July 15 of ten years from now. "I don't think I'm gonna make it, Vali." As it turned out, my dyslexia didn't agree with ugly handwritten script. Surprise, surprise!

Vali managed to raise his head off the desk. "Don't die on me yet. I can't do this alone. And we still need to have a rematch without getting interrupted."

The end appeared to be nigh for both of us. "This sucks," I said, rubbing my cramping palm.

"How do you think I feel? I've been here for six hours."

"Ouch." I opened another file. The text was all in Spanish which, thanks to Le Fay, I was actually able to understand. Taking the stamp and dabbing some red ink onto it, I pressed down to deny the request for a raise. "That makes fifty-four rejections so far on my end. How's it going over there?"

"I've done over a hundred by now." Vali grabbed some papers and straightened them out. "We'll never be done at this rate. Devils can live for a long time. I think I'd rather just die now, though."

"Same." I nodded and opened an envelope. The letter inside was written in English. I read through it, frowned, read again, set it down, and looked at Vali.

"Who's Fafnir?" I asked him.

His head whipped around to face me so fast I was afraid he'd broken his neck. I swear I heard a few pops. "Why do you ask?"

I waved the letter in my hand. "He says he agrees to Azazel's pact, but he expects a treasure worth being sealed. What do you think he wants? Like, a stuffed animal from the carnival or something? I hear giant teddy bears are making a come back."

Vali shot to his feet and snatched the paper out of my hand. He scanned the print. "Interesting. I knew Azazel had been researching the specifics of Divine Dividing, but if he's planning on sealing Fafnir, that can only mean one thing: he wants to replicate Albion's Balance Breaker."

"Or you can just ignore me," I shrugged. "That's valid too."

"Fafnir is—"

A glowing circle popped up next to Vali's ear, cutting him off from giving me an explanation, which made me shake my head.

From the circle, a feminine voice cut the relative silence of Penemue's office space.

"Vali… Vali, can you hear me? Oh, Valiiiii?"

"Kuroka?" Vali's voice went serious. "What's going on, Kuroka?"

"Oh, good, you responded this time. Listen, Bikou and I could really use your help. The deal went a little sideways."

Vali wasted no time in throwing his jacket on. "Where are you?"

"Haderslev."

"On my way. Don't die out there."

"Not before you and I have a litter or two, you know?" the woman called Kuroka purred at him. The circle vanished.

Vali looked at me. "You coming or not?"

I pushed the files away and crossed my arms behind my head. "Won't Azazel and Penemue be angry if you left?"

His eyes narrowed, and I wondered how he was able to create such an atmosphere of dread.

Would he be willing to share his secrets? Maybe I'd finally be able to just walk up to the bad guys and have them surrender on the spot. That would be nice.

 _But it'll never happen unless you can strike fear into their hearts with just a look,_ Nekhbet said. _Or maybe if your name becomes so notorious that enemies cry at the mere mention of Percy Jackson, the ultimate godling!_

I rolled my eyes. _Oh please. Godling makes it sound like I'm a chubby baby god. Like a cupid or something._

 _You're more annoying than the Kane girl,_ Nekhbet complained.

Vali said, "If my comrades are in danger, to hell with caring about the shit I'll get from Azazel. I won't let them fall."

I smirked at that. Who would have thought a half-devil carried around such a devil-may-care attitude? In the end, wanting to protect his friends was respectable.

Standing, I shrugged. "This better not go on my permanent record. I don't need Azazel firing me after only one day."

He looked at me. "So you're in?"

"Let's go save your friends, ya big softie."

* * *

 **Part VII**

* * *

Teleportation magic. What could I say about that stuff?

Well, it's not nearly as fun as shadow travel, that much is for sure. But to be fair, teleportation magic definitely has a certain amount of panache. The magic circle is really bright, so it's good for entertaining children or small animals. Oh, and you don't need shadows, though that much was obvious.

After a brief flash of light, Vali and I were no longer standing in the center of Penemue's office, surrounded by instruments of bureaucratic torture.

"Where are we?" I asked, uncapping Riptide immediately.

"Denmark," Vali replied. He popped his robo-wings out, their blue glow mixing with Riptide's bronze.

We'd been transported to a roughly paved street which cut between rows of warehouses. Street lamps and lights on the long metal buildings illuminated most of the area. Above us, the moon was half-hidden by rolling clouds in the night sky.

My internal clock complained. I'd woken up not even three hours ago. How was it even night? What time zone did the Underworld operate in?

Before I could complain about my internal clock complaining (yes, I can be that petty) a flicker of orange movement caught my eye.

Vali and I leaped out of the way as a flaming tiger landed where we'd just been standing. An explosion followed, sending fire along with asphalt scattering through the air.

"You two are fast." A man called out to us, jumping out of a nearby forklift. The man's voice slowly became troubled. "Oh, I see now. The Divine Dividing. Oh, shit . . . the White Dragon Emperor."

From where he hovered in the air, Vali looked down at the man. "Where are my comrades?"

The man only shrugged. Most of his face became shadowed with the light behind him, but I caught that his hair was an ungodly shade of red and pulled back in a ponytail.

An explosion to the left drew our attention. Someone crashed through the thick steel warehouse doors, ripping the metal apart when he flew into our space.

Rolling to a stop, the guy coughed and stood up, blood dribbling from his mouth. His ancient Chinese armor was dented in some places, and his hair had been ruffled, but a huge smile split his lips, wide enough to show blood-stained teeth.

Vali spared him a short glance. "Bikou, what's going on?"

The man, Bikou, looked up at Vali. "Yo! Good you could join us. We have one hell of a fight on our hands thanks to Kuroka!"

A new figure joined the gathering group, almost like the Power Rangers were assembling, stepping out from behind a stack of steel beams. This time, it was a short woman with two cat ears poking through her long black hair. Her black robes didn't look combat oriented, being more on the decorative side, and to top it off she was wearing sandals.

"Shut it, Bikou," the woman growled. "How was I supposed to know this monster could devour magic?"

I tried to keep up with what was going on, but it was no use.

I had no idea how to process the sudden turn in my day. I didn't even know what time it was. And if that didn't say something, then what would?

What I did know, though, was that there were baddies in need of a beat down, which was something I could do.

"Can one of you give me some details?" Vali asked, keeping his gaze on the man who'd attacked us with the fire-tiger.

Bikou wiped the blood dripping from his chin. "Three Sacred Gear bearers. One of them is Arcane Consume. The other is Formula Unravel. The last is Torch Apparition."

"Formula Unravel and Sorcery Consume are both high-tier Sacred Gears, close to the Longinus," Vali muttered. "To see both of them in the same place…"

From the warehouse, clambering through the hole Bikou had made, a woman appeared, her long white hair shimmering under the lamps' glow. Under her eyes were two inverted cross tattoos, glistening with bright red energy.

"It seems unlikely, right?" she said loudly. " _It can't be a coincidence_ : that's what you must be thinking. But when humans are pushed back into a corner, we can do incredible things, wouldn't you say?"

Vali stared at her. "You must be the Arcane Consume. That Sacred Gear allows you to devour outside magical energy through your body."

The woman grinned. "Don't forget using that magic to increase my base human parameters. And with all that power your cat friend gave me, I am well on track to being able to stand up to you all."

Bikou coughed again. "Kuroka used a lot of power in her first and second attacks. We didn't realize what we were up against until the third time. By then, well, our little cat sure does have the magical power of an ultimate-class Devil, doesn't she?"

It was around that point I stopped listening to those guys talk about their powers.

Why were they giving the enemy a chance to learn about important information like that? It didn't make sense. Did they want to lose? Because that's how you lose battles. As soon as the enemy gets a read on you, it becomes more likely they'll take advantage of that knowledge.

 _Idiots_ , Nekhbet sighed.

I nodded. _How are you doing on power?_

She squawked. _Very well, actually. I feel alive and invigorated! Let us destroy these imbeciles. What say you?_

 _Might as well._

The muscles in my legs were flooded with power from the river inside me. I felt like I could sumo wrestle Antaeus and piledrive him into the dirt.

Though, I then remembered that Antaeus had been a son of dear old Dirt Face herself. As long as he came into contact with the ground, the Earth would heal all his wounds. Not even celestial bronze could leave lasting damage. I'd only beaten the guy by hanging him up like a prime cut of beef, keeping him away from the dirt so that it couldn't heal him.

Regeneration is totally unfair and overpowered. I'd probably already mentioned that, but saying it again never hurt.

I looked around at my targets.

There was the fire-tiger dude, still standing by the forklift in front of me, arms crossed, but looking nervously at Vali, a tremble spreading throughout his body.

A new face had joined the fray, sitting on the warehouse Bikou came from, which was to my direct left. A few magic circles hovered in front of New Guy, spinning dangerously and aimed right at Vali.

And finally, there was the woman with Arcane Consume, underneath New Guy, still talking wildly as her tattoos burned the shadows away from her. She seemed to be the only one among their group who was unconcerned with Vali's presence.

The choice of who to take down was clear. So I struck.

Fire Dude didn't react near fast enough to stop my fist from launching him against the forklift. He'd probably figured those thirty feet between us was enough distance to keep him safe for at least a few seconds. But he'd been wrong, and all he could do was wheeze on the ground, clutch his stomach, and try to catch his breath after I had knocked it right out of his lungs.

I raised my eyebrows. For a second, I thought I saw purple energy flicker along my forearms, but the more I stared at my skin, the more I doubted I'd seen anything.

Nekhbet chortled boisterously. _Despite my power being diminished, you are much too strong to be a normal demigod. What are you, I wonder, Percy Jackson. Well, no matter. Let's kill him; show them all what it means to challenge an abomination such as ourselves._

My arm rose, carrying Riptide up along with it. But I wasn't in control.

Sweat rolled down my face as I heard explosions pick up off to the side. The fight must have restarted when I chose to attack. That didn't matter to me, though.

Vali was more than capable of handling those guys.

I was more concerned about the fact that I just barely kept my arm from bringing Riptide down on Fire Dude. Nekhbet was trying to take over. She wanted to drive. To steer me. To make me into some kind of extension of her own will.

An outfit she could wear for her own gain, as Kronos had done with Luke.

No way I'd let that happen.

My mouth twisted as the taste of rotten meat drowned my tongue. "I thought we went over this . . . we either do this together . . . or we don't do this at all."

 _If you are too weak to stop me . . . then why would I ever willingly work with you?_

"What happened to cooperation? We were—doing so well—earlier." I struggled to speak against her control. "I thought we'd really—bonded, you know? A heartfelt connection."

 _That was . . . before I realized just how much power we contain in this state. If I possess you completely, I will—have so much more._ She huffed and puffed just like me, which meant I was putting up a fight.

"Can you maybe just calm down on the whole lust for power thing? Getting kinda old . . . at this point."

 _Make me_.

I managed to sigh. "Fine."

And with that, I tensed everything in my body. Slowly, I pulled my arm back, trembling at the sheer force required to do even that. Shrill arrows of agony cut into my joints. Creaks of protest resonated in my bone marrow.

 _Jackson, let me . . . are you willing to destroy your own body for this? Fine! Fine then!_ Nekbhet roared in disdain. _You are formidable. I see how you could turn down godhood with this fortitude._

Her hold on my body disappeared.

I gasped as cool relief spread into my flaming tendons.

Groaning, I said, "No need for flattery. Can you please stop doing that, though? It's super annoying."

Nekhbet scoffed. _I do as I see fit._

With that, she quieted down. I wondered if this was the reason nobody let her use the remote in the gods' lounge. She just came across as too unreasonable. Well, she had been right about one thing. The power coursing through me gave me a buzz like no other. It electrified my nerves. It was like what I felt yesterday if someone had cranked the dial to eleven.

Nekhbet said that without the white crown, her powers were greatly diminished. Was she still operating at that lower level even now? Would she ever get her full power back?

And more importantly . . . what did all that mean for me?

The power of a god was nothing to sneeze at, no matter how you sliced it. Merging with Nekhbet had afforded me a huge boost.

Of course, there were drawbacks. I couldn't use too much of her power at any given time unless I wanted to become extra crispy. Carter told me magicians could burn up when they overused magic. No doubt, the same would happen to me if I wasn't careful.

Since I wasn't trying to look like the next Freddy Krueger, it stood to reason I'd moderate the use of Nekhbet's power. Unfortunately, I just had no way of knowing where to draw the line. In the past, I had gone past what I felt were my limits at the time under extreme duress. But if I did that with a gods power pumping in my veins, it might mean I'd become a real human torch. That would be taking the phrase " _Flame On_ " a bit too literally for me.

Beneath me, the man I'd punched started to recover. He was under the shadow cast by the forklift, but I could see his arm light up orange as he moved.

He glanced at me and said, "Conjure: Knight!"

Fire swirled around him, coalescing in a cyclone of embers until a body formed; the fiery outline of an armored knight, complete with sword in hand.

Nekhbet's little tug of war for my body had given Fire Dude time to recover. I jumped back, forced to squint from the brightness of the flaming knight. Despite the light emitted, the shadows still seemed to persist around us.

The fire was toasty, but compared to Hyperion—who'd been weak when I fought him—the heat fell short.

With its sword raised, the knight charged me. My eyebrow went up at seeing how many openings the thing was giving me. Shrugging, I carefully took some of Nekhbet's power, stepped forward, heaved my arm around, and cut through the fiery knight, Riptide scattering the flames into small motes of cinder.

Fire Dude gaped at me as if I'd just done something impossible. His arm lit up again, and he called out, "Conjure: Tiger!"

Another one of those fire-tigers came to life from a collection of cinder, prowling forward with its artificial body stuck close to the cement. Once it got close, it pounced, teeth poised to sink into my neck.

I bisected the cat with a diagonal swing.

In any other context, PETA wouldn't have been happy about that, I'm sure.

"Can you give up now?" I asked him, taking another step forward.

"C-conjure: Dragon!" He'd finally managed to push himself up, holding his glowing arm between us as a buffer.

Another collection of embers swirled in front of him. The fire came together as a long, serpent-like creature with only the vaguest similarities to a dragon. It didn't even have wings, for crying out loud. What kind of dragon didn't have wings?

Even without wings, it flew toward me, fast, ready to swallow me in a single bite. The thing must have been about fifteen feet long and maybe half as wide.

For some reason, I didn't feel the need to move. As a child of Poseidon, it took a lot of heat to actually burn me. This guy's dragon just wasn't cutting it. So I stood my ground, waited, and slashed.

The dragon's head disintegrated, and the rest of its body followed soon after, nothing but fading embers being swept away into the night air.

"W-what . . ." Fire Dude staggered back, bumping into the forklift. "How did you do that? What are you?"

I shrugged. "I'm flame-resistant. Not at the level of Medea's Sunscreen SPF 50,000 or anything, but hey, I can take a few handfuls of lava." Giving him a quick glance, I tapped my chin. "Hey, are you human?"

Fire Dude's eyes hardened, and he nodded. "Of course I am. You got a problem with that? Just because Devils, Angels, demons, and all these other supernatural creatures are stronger than us—"

"Right, sorry to cut you off when you really started getting into it, but I'm gonna knock you out now, okay?"

He grit his teeth. "I'd like to see you—"

I threw my sword at him.

Don't try that at home, by the way. Since Riptide's blade is made of celestial bronze, it doesn't actually hurt mortals. If someone did that with a regular steel sword, though, their target would gain _kebab_ status in no time flat. I didn't want to see any news about the ' _Throw A Sword At Your Friend_ ' challenge becoming popular.

Fire Dude flinched as Riptide harmlessly slid through his body, embedding itself in the forklift's tire.

His momentary lapse gave me the time to get close. I punched him again; one brutally solid uppercut to put him down for a while.

He dropped like a sack of rocks. I looked at his arm, which didn't have the orange glow on it anymore. "So that was another Sacred Gear, huh? Weird. I've never seen anything like that before. Wonder if Hephaestus could've made those fiery things."

 _And to think normal humans can be born with these instruments._ Nekhbet contemplated something. _We'll have to be careful._

"Guess we will."

I pulled Riptide out of the deflated tire and turned to look at the battle behind me just in time to see it end.

 **[Divide.]**

Vali hadn't even needed to break out his metal armor. The white-haired lady stumbled forward, cut and bloody, falling to her knees with her power drained. Her fingertips scraped against the cement.

"You all . . . think you're better than me, don't you?" she asked.

The other guy who'd been on top of the warehouse was gone. He must have run away when it became clear that he was going to lose, no matter how he played it.

Vali floated down to her. "We do."

Anger flashed in her eyes. She stood up on shaky legs. "You fucking monsters. You damn, dirty . . . always looking down on humanity. Well, we'll teach you. Humans will always gather to destroy the forming darkness! The Hero Faction won't lose to the likes of you!"

She tried to lunge for Vali, but a quick **[Divide]** later saw the woman trip and fall, her consciousness going with her strength.

Kuroka and Bikou gathered around Vali. I grabbed Fire Dude and hauled him over to where they were.

I stood awkwardly to the side while they talked between themselves for a little while. Most of their discussion pertained to the Hero Faction and went a little over my head when they veered into "Old Satan Faction" territory. Eventually, though, Kuroka decided to include me in the conversation.

"Who's your new friend, Vali?" she asked, giving me a quick scan with her eyes. "I don't mind looking at him."

"This is Percy Jackson," Vali introduced me. "I met him yesterday, and Azazel recruited him into the Grigori not long after that."

I waved. "He attacked me."

Vali crossed his arms. "You attacked me first."

"What? No . . . did I?"

"You cut me after I dragged you out of the water."

My eyes widened. "Right! How did I forget? Sorry about that, man. In my defense, I think you would've wanted to fight even if I hadn't cut you."

Bikou laughed raucously. "Well, I wouldn't have been surprised if Vali here was the one who started the fight. He loves fighting strong people, you know? Anyway, name's Bikou, descendent of Sun Wukong. Nice to meet you, Percy Jackson!"

I shook his hand. "Ditto."

"I'm Kuroka, also part of Vali's team like this noisy monkey here." The woman must have seen me staring at her ears because she chuckled and said, "Yes, the ears are real. I'd prefer if you didn't try to touch them."

A woman with cat ears wasn't the strangest thing I'd ever seen. (Telekhines are all kinds of freaky when you really look at them.) Despite that, I still found Kuroka's appearance worth a double-take, just to be sure I didn't have a case of sudden onset cataracts.

"I see you were busy dealing with the Flame Apparition." Vali knelt down and examined the guy I'd taken out. "Unconscious but alive. Well done."

I gave him a wry smile. "I try. But can I get a rundown of what's going on? New guy here, remember?"

Vali put away his Sacred Gear. "Well, what do you want to know?"

Kuroka and Bikou both gave me their attention, smiling slightly in the darkness. Vali stood in front of them, at the fore, cooler than a cucumber, his eyes shining from a lamp behind me.

"Well, I'd like to hear about the Hero and Old Satan factions, but something tells me that'll be a long discussion. So instead . . . these people—Kuroka, Beak-O, Arthur, Le Fay… are they part of your team, or part of Azazel's organization?"

Vali walked further into the light's spread. "For all intents and purposes, they're part of the Grigori, just like I am. But there's a particular reason I gathered them."

Riptide shrank down to a pen when I capped it. "Starting a progressive rock group?"

"To kill my grandfather when he finally shows his face again."

That sounded familiar. "Yeah, been there, done that; it's a lot harder than you think. Don't let him possess the body of your former friend. And if he does, you'll need to double up on invincibility juice."

Vali, who knew about Kronos wearing Luke like a meat-puppet and the Curse of Achilles, managed a small smirk. The other two gave each other confused shrugs.

"My grandfather," Vali's face twisted, levity gone, "Rizevim Livan Lucifer, is the son of the original Lucifer. Son of the Morning Star. Currently, he is perhaps the vilest Devil alive. Moreover, he is one of the three known entities classified as "Super Devil". Rizevim has power comparable to that of a god."

"Kuroka, Arthur, Bikou, and Le Fay—I chose them not only because they're strong . . . but also because I know I can't beat Rizevim on my own, or by relying on other people with Sacred Gears like myself." Vali's fists clenched. "Rizevim's unique ability is called Sacred Gear Canceller."

"I can already guess by the name," I muttered. "Your Divine Dividing would be useless against him, huh?"

He nodded reluctantly. "Rizevim is a disgusting excuse for a person. I intend to kill him. But, as I said, I can't do it alone. I . . . I'll need help." His eyes locked on me. "I was thinking about asking you to join us in the near future."

Faintly surprised, I asked, "You want my help? Why?"

"You don't have a Sacred Gear. And, to top it off, you're strong." Vali held his hand out, fingers curled upward. "Your aura feels somewhat denser than yesterday. Well, after what you went through, it makes sense that you'd have been worn out by the time we fought. And now I want to fight you even more. I want to see you at maximum power, and take you on at that level."

Bikou guffawed. "What Vali is trying to say, is that he's impressed, and acknowledges that you will be a valuable comrade. He doesn't make these claims lightly, either!"

Kuroka snickered behind her arm. "And he's so passionate about it, too. I'm starting to worry about my chances of repopulating my species. But still, you should consider this seriously. One day, we may have no choice but to split off from the Grigori. Isn't that right, Vali?"

Vali looked at the moon. "If our goals don't align with Azazel's, then, yes. It may well mean a defection."

"You'd betray him just like that?" I asked.

"Yes, if he would actively go against what I want, I would have no choice but to betray him, wouldn't you say?"

"You want me to help you after hearing all that? Why would I join a guy who's willing to betray his boss so easily?"

Vali rubbed his arm, the spot I'd cut with Riptide. "When I heard your story yesterday, when you talked about fighting gods, Titans, Giants, and all sorts of monsters, I couldn't help but say to myself: 'This guy isn't just a mortal. He isn't normal. He went beyond that boundary, broke free of the status _demigod_ and became, unwaveringly, without any pretentious intention, a real human being, and a real hero.' So, then, I kept myself awake wondering how a real hero could turn down the chance to defeat the epitome of monsters."

"Compliments only get you so far with me, Vali."

"But they weren't empty. Nor is my wish for you to join us. I'm not asking you to decide right now, and I don't want to betray Azazel, but choices have to be made. One way or another, I know Rizevim is going to pop up." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Besides, I can't stay under Azazel's wing forever. He's supported me enough."

 _"Choices have to be made."_ Boy, didn't I already have intimate knowledge about that. I felt like I'd made more than enough choices to last a lifetime. Too many of those choices ended up with me losing someone I cared about.

Sure, you could argue those choices all ended up working out in the end, but that didn't stop me from wondering about the alternatives.

But in this case, I had a choice that didn't immediately have some kind of significant repercussion. Or at least, that's how it seemed. From where I stood, though, I couldn't see any reason to set myself toward potentially betraying Azazel.

So, I looked at Vali and said, "I don't trust Azazel, but honestly, I trust you even less. If you ask me, I'll say no."

He hesitated, then starting nodding slowly. "Fine. Maybe you'll change your mind in the future. Until then, we'll continue to be coworkers. But mark my words, if we end up on opposite sides at any point, I won't hold back. I'll throw everything at you, even if that happens to be the Juggernaut Drive. So come at me with the intention to kill."

 _It would seem chaos followed us into this world,_ Nekhbet commented.

 _My life's always been chaotic. I'm not too worried,_ I said, staring at the red crosses beneath the white-haired woman's eyes. They were vivid and powerful in the night.

Vali gave us all a cursory scan, then created a glowing circle beneath everyone, taking us back to the Underworld in a flash.

* * *

 **End Chapter**


	3. III

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or High School DxD.**

* * *

3\. Adhesion, London Forces, and Surface Tension

* * *

 **Part I**

* * *

Seven weeks passed since I followed Setne into the Sea of Chaos, and in that time, I learned that Arthur was, in my humblest of opinions, some kind of dam monster. And not even the good kind of dam monster, like Bessie or those Skeletor knock-offs (spartoi?) or even the cool flying statues who almost told us about their sex lives with a couple of busty marble women.

But back to Arthur.

He was something straight out of a video game or sci-fi movie. His face didn't often change, more or less always stuck on the same setting of "too cool for school". And that included when he fought.

Now, it was never my intention to fight him. But as time passed, it got harder to make excuses so I could get out of a spar. By the third week, I'd run out of ideas and had no choice but to meet him in the gym.

By the fifth week, I was regularly battling either Vali, Bikou, or Arthur at the end of every day. Heck, even Kuroka got in on the action from time to time, using me as a test subject for her senjutsu and demonic magic. I really didn't like dodging blue wheels of spiraling fire.

The only one who had never asked me to fight was—gods bless her soul—Le Fay.

I parried another of Arthur's thrusts with my unbalanced sword. Well, the sword was unbalanced for me, at the very least. Since Riptide wouldn't actually hurt Arthur, he made sure to even the playing field in our spars by having the both of us use standard weapons from the Grigori's storage.

He had said it wouldn't be fair if he used his own blade, the legendary Caliburn, which his great-many-times-over grandfather had once wielded.

Oh, sorry, did I mention that Arthur and Le Fay were descendants of King Arthur Pendragon and Morgan Le Fay? If I hadn't mentioned that, then I apologize. I mean, considering I'm the son of a god (the coolest god, in my opinion) maybe their own heritage wasn't a big deal, but I still thought it was a neat fact about them.

Arthur bolted to my side.

I tossed my sword to my other hand and parried his diagonal slash. Our blades rang when they collided. Planting my foot, I went for a heel pivot, whipping my body around and striking out with the back of my fist.

His head snapped to the side, glasses almost flying off his face if not for a quick interference by his fingers.

We moved apart, with him taking a glance at the digital clock mounted above the boxing ring further down in the gym.

"I think that's about enough for today," he said, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead with a handkerchief. "Tell me, that move you performed earlier . . ."

He asked me a few questions about my techniques. After our first or second spar way back when, I'd learned that Arthur, despite his skill, speed, and strength, adhered to a rigid pattern of movements. He was a good fighter, but a predictable one all the while.

Don't get me wrong, his battle sense was excellent, but at the same time, he never seemed to want to act on that. It was just about sad enough to make me cry.

Through our training sessions, I slowly started to see some loosening of his posture, and he began to take more risks. I wouldn't say it was at the point where I'd call his fighting style similar to mine or Luke or Annabeth's, but there were definitely moments I could point to and say, _Now your fighting like a Greek demigod_.

And as much as he learned from me, I feel like I gleaned just as much from him—at least, in terms of experience. He was a good partner to fight. Sometimes he could be even scarier than Vali.

"Here you go, Percy." Bounding over from her spot by the wall, Le Fay handed me a clean towelette for my face. "You guys did a great job!"

She gave us such an earnest grin, I couldn't help but smile back at her. "Thanks, but you don't have to wait for us down here."

This started a few weeks back. Le Fay had been watching Drag So Ball (which was literally just a clone of Dragon Ball from my world except with names changed) in one of the living quarter's lounges. She'd been cheering so loud, I sat down with her and watched as Gohan fought against Perfect Cell.

Since then, we made it a point to hang out in the same lounge and watch movies or play games. Le Fay was a master when it came to _Guitar Hero_. The girl could shred.

"Well _somebody_ has to make sure you guys don't overdo it! And besides," Le Fay grabbed my hand and started leading me to the stairs. "It's always Arthur who stops the spar. I have half a mind to think if he wasn't around, you'd totally forget about me like when you fight Lord Vali or Bikou."

I laughed and turned a helpless grin to Arthur. He'd been staring at our retreating forms. I caught a glimpse of a lukewarm tugging at his mouth before I was entirely at Le Fay's mercy.

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

Inside the lounge, we found Azazel already playing a racing game. Le Fay and I stood awkwardly behind the couch, a few feet away from the angel as he contorted his body in an attempt to make his car turn faster. He took a sharp left and flew off the edge of a cliff.

"Damn it!" Azazel tossed the controller onto the couch and slumped.

I shook my head. This guy was my boss, I repeated in my head. It was hard enough to take him seriously after a week of working for him. Now that I was almost two months in, I didn't even know why I bothered having any expectations.

"Maybe you just didn't give it your best shot?" I asked, moving to sit next to him. Le Fay followed me and sat down too. "It's all about opening your third eye, becoming one with the Force, going even further beyond."

He almost glared at me but ended up sighing and hanging his head behind the couch. "Don't patronize me, kid. I've had a long week."

"What happened? Did you finally get me a meeting with the Greeks? Please say yes. If you say anything other than yes, it'd better be _sí_ or _oui_ or _firește_."

"Are you still showing off that you can speak different languages now?" Azazel asked.

I grinned. "Dude, it's pretty cool. I can visit Italy now and not have to worry about sounding like a total tourist. Or I can order a baguette in Paris. Or . . . uh, what do people do in Romania?"

Le Fay put a finger to her chin and tilted her head. "Impale people?"

"I don't think I want to do that."

"But then you can be the next Vlad the Impaler!" she argued.

"Le Fay, don't encourage people to become the next Vlad the Impaler." When she seemed suitably chastised, I faced Azazel. "What brings you around, boss-man? I haven't seen you for a while."

"Wait, wait, to answer your questions about the Greeks: no, we haven't gotten there yet. Strange thing about that, too. I've visited Universal Studios with Zeus before. We're at least on speaking terms. He wouldn't ignore a formal message from me for so long."

"You've been to an amusement park . . . with _Zeus_?" I wasn't sure how else to respond except for disbelief and shock.

"Not important." Azazel waved his hand. "What _is_ important is that this is really strange. I wonder if something could have happened over in Olympus World, something that would detrimentally affect the gods so as to stop them from responding to me?"

"You did tell me it might take a couple of months."

"Yeah, I was lying there a bit, just so you wouldn't get your hopes up."

"Ignoring that painful truth, why don't you use that magic-y telephone circle thing and give 'em a ring. Use speed-dial. Or are you charged for international call minutes?"

He shook his head. "They're on a 'Do Not Call' list."

I pretended that made sense. "Long story short, they still haven't said anything?"

"That's the gist of it. Sorry, kid." Azazel stretched out and yawned. The giant mounted flatscreen flashed in the dim lounge. The curtains were drawn closed so that the Underworld's purple glow didn't come through the huge bay windows.

How long had Azazel been in here? I shook my head, wondering how I'd come to work for this guy.

"But let's put that on hold. I've got news. Remember how you've been bugging me about taking a vacation?" Azazel asked.

Of course, I remembered. After only two weeks, I'd felt like I had earned a well-deserved break from the daily grind of paperwork, sparring, and being a (very un-knowledgeable) lab assistant for some of the guys in R&D. Ever since then, I bugged Azazel just about every time I saw him to give me paid vacation days.

I leaned forward. "You'll finally give me some time off? Azazel, I take back all the bad things I ever said about you to Penemue and Armaros behind your back in the cafeteria."

He laughed awkwardly, a hand going to scratch his neck. "Ah, well, about that . . . I know you want to go to New York." Nodding reluctantly, I let him continue, "And that just so happens to be where I'll be meeting with a group of Norse guys next week. I want to bring you with me as fodder—erm—as a valuable assistant and capable warrior. Just as a precaution."

Sighing, I said, "You serious? Dude . . ."

"Oh, come on! When I'm done with my meeting, we can hang around the city for a little longer. I love the clubs in Manhattan, too, so there's plenty to keep me entertained while you do what you've gotta do."

I rubbed my eyes while Azazel smiled at me. "I _hate_ it when people use logical arguments against me. No wonder Annabeth was always able to get under my skin when we were younger . . ."

Talking about the people I may have lost had become easier over the seven weeks of staying with the Grigori. I wanted to remain optimistic, but every day that passed brought me less assurance on anything regarding the subject of home.

Truthfully, I could have gone to New York any time I wanted. I'm pretty sure either Vali or Le Fay would have agreed to teleport me out of the Underworld. Le Fay because she just seemed like a nice person, and Vali because he probably didn't care about my reasons all that much. Depending on where they brought me, I could just cross the oceans using my _son of Poseidon_ schtick.

But I didn't do that.

I couldn't bring myself to potentially confirm my worst fears; fears which made me well and truly believe that everybody was gone.

My entire life from before _couldn't_ have just disappeared like that. I didn't _want_ it to disappear.

Annabeth once explained paradoxes to me, and I figured this situation was kind of like a paradox. If I went to New York and found that Camp Half-Blood didn't exist, that my mom and Paul didn't live on the Upper East Side, then it would solidify my fears, making them a reality. But if I didn't go to New York, I might never know, and therefore, everybody I knew would still be alive because of that ignorance I'd willingly hold on to—if only in my mind.

 _Do I hear whining again?_ Nekhbet pushed her way into the passenger seat. _Jackson, I have my hands full keeping you from jumping off a bridge, don't I?_

 _Considering bridges usually span water, I wouldn't even get hurt if I jumped, you old bat._

She huffed. _Don't compare me to that beast, Camazotz._

I sighed. _Do I even want to know?_

 _Camazotz, the Mayan god of bats._

 _Thanks for at least keeping it short and sweet._

 _The Mayan people actually thought of him to be a harbinger of—_

And that's about the time I decided to ignore her. She could be really spiteful. I couldn't stress enough how much of a handful Nekhbet tended to be most days.

"Azazel," I looked at him. "What do you mean we're meeting the Norse?"

He gave me a funny kind of smile. I had half a mind to punch him when all he said was: "Fafnir."

I raised my eyebrow. Vali had told me a little about Fafnir and how he was considered one of the Five Great Dragon Kings: a powerful creature on par with gods. He'd been killed by the old Germanic hero Siegfried but was revived by the Norse dudes a few years back, for some reason.

"Okay, but here's another question for you: why in the world would you pick New York as a meeting place?" Even if it was a different dimension, New York City was still _my_ city. I didn't want another big battle to break out inside the place.

Azazel held up his finger. "You see, my apprentice, the old geezer of the north wanted to meet on neutral ground."

"Neutral ground?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, we couldn't rightfully meet here, where I would have the home-court advantage, or in Nordic territory, where they would. So, instead, we chose to have our get-together in a place that wasn't tied to our religion, and that also had no external religions. One such place—which I suggested—is New York City. And once I mentioned the clubs and bars and young women from the melting pot of America . . . how could an old geezer like Odin refuse?"

Wait, was the supposed to make sense to me? What was the logic being used here? Something definitely seemed off. "Sounds like you guys don't trust each other if you're going as far as to remove any advantages the other might hold."

"Very perceptive!" Azazel sounded shocked.

"That's an amazing deduction!" Le Fay gasps in surprise.

"You guys do know I've outsmarted a primordial god before, right? Pretty sure I told you at some point." Okay, I might have been stretching the truth by saying I'd _outsmarted_ Akhlys. All I'd really done was hope that I could control her poison and tears. But hey, it panned out in the end, didn't it? "But, wait, I thought we were meeting Fafnir. Why is Odin coming along, too?"

"Well," Azazel pulled out a bottle of beer from the sleeve of his robe, "all this time, Fafnir has more or less been living as a . . . I guess you could call it a protectorate of the Norse. It's kind of a win-win scenario. Odin keeps any up-and-coming heroes from trying to slay Fafnir, and Fafnir acts as a deterrent against other pantheons in case they try to move on the Norse."

"I thought the Five Great Dragon Kings were supposed to be on par with gods?"

"They are," Le Fay tugged on my sleeve. "But a human with the right equipment and a solid plan can kill even the most terrible monsters, including dragons and gods. For example, Siegfried used the dragon-slaying demonic sword Gram and a planned trap to kill Fafnir."

"Element of surprise, huh?" I knew enough about how the element of surprise could work wonders for an underdog. I _still_ had mad respect for Rachel after she'd pegged Kronos in the eye with her blue hairbrush. She was definitely a special kind of person. I missed hanging out with Rachel, actually. She'd always been the person I went to when my half-blood life got too hectic. We had some good times just acting like two regular friends . . . even though I think we'd both thought, at some point, we could have been more than that.

"Even dragons have their weaknesses." The cap came flying off of Azazel's beer. "But anyway, since I want to seal Fafnir into an artificial Sacred Gear, and as they have no guarantee I won't try to do it by force, Odin will be coming along to deter me from trying anything funny with his dear Dragon King Fafnir."

Le Fay hadn't let go of my sleeve yet, and I could see her legs swinging idly on the edge of the couch. "How much are you paying me to go along?" I asked.

He looked at me with disbelief. "I have to pay you extra to do your job?"

"I expect a bonus since all I got on Thanksgiving was a bucket of chicken that _I know_ was from KFC. If you were gonna burn me like that, the least you could've done was gone to Costco and gotten a rotisserie chicken from there."

"You do realize Thanksgiving isn't a global holiday, right?" Azazel asked.

I'd forgotten that fact. "Look, the point is that I demand better treatment. No taxation without representation."

"Good thing I don't like tea enough to be bothered if you tossed it in the harbor."

"No problem, I'll find something else to throw."

"Try me, punk. I'll cut your pay."

"I'll ask Penemue about your most embarrassing secrets. She's already told me an interesting bit about you coming up with a Sacred Gear idea while you were still in Heaven. What was it called again? The Bla—"

"Wait! I'll get you your damn vacation days!" Azazel panicked, almost spilling his beer. "Don't bring that up, okay? I was young."

Le Fay started to giggle beside me, and I smiled at the sound. That was something I found myself doing more often: smiling. For the first week or so after falling into the Sea of Chaos, I didn't feel I had the right to smile.

But every time that thought popped into my head, every time I doubted myself in allowing something to lift my mood, I swear I could hear Annabeth calling me Seaweed Brain, Rachel telling me to stop being an idiot, Tyson cheering for me not being dead, my mom and Paul telling me they loved me no matter what.

I knew Thalia and Nico would punch me or roll their eyes. My father would probably tell me he admired my strength for going forward. Mrs. O'Leary . . . well, she'd just give me a _WOOF!_ and a lick. (But that would be enough for me.)

Jason would try too hard to sympathize in some way while giving me a pat on the back. Piper would empathize, Hazel and Frank would try to cheer me up, and Leo would either shrug or tell a joke.

However I looked at it, I just couldn't bring myself to believe any of them would be angry if I laughed along with Bikou or Kuroka when they talked about Vali. Or if I smiled with Le Fay as we made Slash jealous with our guitar skills. Or if I cracked a joke of my own or had quip wars with Azazel in our off-time.

Well, maybe that last one was a bit off-putting.

Either way, none of them would blame me for what happened.

Clarisse might, actually, and Mr. D would probably be like, _"_ _This is why I don't like heroes; always letting evil sorcerers destroy the world"_ , but aside from them I think I'd be absolved of guilt.

Azazel stood up. "We leave for New York early Monday morning. So that gives you three days to get ready for whatever may pass."

He took his bottle and left. I watched as he closed the door. His words made me sweat a little. He'd just warned me. He'd warned me about facing the possibility of solidifying my fear.

Le Fay's finger poking my knee brought me back. "Are you okay?"

I looked at the T.V. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just hoping he keeps his word and actually gives me time for a vacation soon."

She smiled at me, but I knew she wasn't buying it. It wasn't common knowledge about what happened to me, but Vali told his team mostly everything. The only detail he'd left out was my merging with Nekhbet.

How did I feel about that? I couldn't say. Eventually, it would come out, probably by my own admission. Maybe he just wanted me to be the one to say it.

"Are you scared?" Le Fay moved her hand so that it could rest on my forearm.

Why was she so warm? I felt like she could wring out my deepest secrets with just her tone and face. Forget Vali, Bikou, and Arthur; Le Fay was the most dangerous person around.

I smiled. "Scared? Who, me? I'll have you know I've never been scared in my entire life."

"Not even once?"

"Mhm, not even once. Now, what's on the menu today?"

She thought, then said, "We still have to finish the Babidi Saga, the Chapter Black Saga, and Shinobu Mail. And since you'll be gone on Monday, we'll have to get through more episodes today to make up for that! So let's get to it!"

Grinning indulgently, I sat with her in companionable silence as Vegeta betrayed his friends, my mind half a world away, finding itself back at home.

* * *

 **Part III**

* * *

Monday rolled around, and I wasn't sure whether to punch or kick Azazel.

"Governors Island . . . is this some kind of sick joke? Is this how you get your sick kicks?"

Azazel shrugged. "It was the first place that popped to mind where I figured there wouldn't be many civilians hanging around."

He and I stood on Governors Island, in a cracked, vacant lot overgrown with crabgrass, not too far from several weathered brick buildings. An old pavilion with chipping white paint on its wooden posts housed the only other people around.

Azazel smoothed his blazer. He'd decided to dress up a little for the meeting, and chose a garish pair of burgundy pants and a charcoal coat, which I suppose did make him look a little younger than the Asian robes he was partial toward.

I, on the other hand, was still dressed like a butler. Yes, I'd bought other kinds of clothing, but Azazel insisted on me keeping the outfit Arthur donated as my work uniform.

"Why didn't you bring more people?" I asked Azazel as we approached the pavilion.

"Because as long as I don't provoke him, Odin has no reason to attack me. He knows I can't beat him in an outright slugfest. That's even truer since Fafnir would be with him."

"You're not worried?"

"Nah."

"Maybe you should be," I said, watching as two people stood from the benches inside the pavilion and stepped out to meet us. "There ain't no dragons around these parts."

In front of us waited an old man—a very, _very_ old man—wearing a rough-looking green overcoat that stretched all the way to his shins. His beard nearly scraped the ground and was a telling shade of white. On his left eye was a reflective monocle.

Just behind him, a woman with azure eyes rocked a navy business suit. A pair of pink ribbons adorned her long silver hair.

"Well, well, if it isn't the ancient perverted bastard from the north!" Azazel greeted with a lazy grin and wave.

"And if it isn't the upstart perverted youngster of the fallen ones," the old man nodded.

We stopped a respectable distance from them.

"How have you been, Odin?"

"Better, younger, more virile, ah, you get the picture," Odin waved off the question. "I would have stayed up in the comfort of my own home if you hadn't insisted on meeting here, in New York City. It gives me the perfect excuse to scope out potential targets."

The woman quickly intervened. "Lord Odin, please, don't say such things! You're here representing not just yourself or Dragon King Fafnir, but all of Valhalla!"

My eyes were drawn to a glint of gold on the ground by their feet. I blinked. It looked like an overgrown gold gecko. "Uh . . . guys?"

"Oh, please, stop your nagging," Odin told the woman, not having heard my low murmuring. "There's a reason you can't get a boyfriend, and let me tell you, it isn't because you're a hideous old hag. It's because you'd suck the life out of them, and not in a good way."

"No, seriously guys, look." I pointed at the golden gecko. It was about the size of a small dog.

"As blunt as ever, you damn geezer," Azazel laughed. "Look, you're gonna make this beautiful young girl cry."

"Guys . . . ?"

"I-it's not like I choose to stay single." The woman choked back a sob.

"Uh . . . hello?"

"I don't think I've introduced you," Odin stepped aside and gestured toward the woman. "This is Rossweisse. She's a little new to being one of my personal guards, but her credentials speak for themselves."

Azazel hummed. "A Valkyrie from Valhalla, eh?"

Rossweisse wiped tears from her eyes. "The pleasure is mine, Governor-General Azazel. P-please excuse my behavior."

"No problem. Your boss has a penchant for being rude. Most of his assistants quit because of that . . . or so I'm told."

"You damn brat. When did your spies get into Asgard?" Odin stroked his beard.

"World War II."

Odin laughed bitterly. "Crafty. Refugees? You're sick."

Azazel smirked. "You say that as if the Allies didn't have some pretty underhanded tactics in the works, either."

"The British were desperate. The Germans certainly were quite scary at the time. But let's put that aside. History can wait to be discussed by the youth of this world, not relics of the past like you and I. Why don't you introduce me to the creepy kid muttering over here?"

"Yeah, there's a gecko down there," I pointed at their feet. "Seems like a cool guy."

"Right, putting aside any of his quirks, I'd like to introduce Percy Jackson, otherwise known as 'The Black Knight'!"

I nodded along. "Sure, that's me."

Odin rubbed his chin. "He doesn't look like a knight to me."

Azazel hummed. "You're right . . . how about . . . 'Birdman'!"

Nekhbet went full-on Ares-mode. The back of my fist crashed into Azazel's bicep, forcing him away by a few steps. "Ah! C'mon, that's just mean."

"Sorry, I don't have control of my arm right now," I said, glancing discreetly at Odin and his Valkyrie guard. Thankfully, Nekhbet's purple energy hadn't popped out. Still, she'd managed to requisition my arm for her own purposes.

"Did you even try holding back?" Azazel asked with a pained wince.

"No, I've been watching too many violent programs with Le Fay."

"I'm scared to think what she's been exposed to, then. You haven't shown her anything Arthur would disapprove of, have you?"

My urge to punch him a second time became hard to resist. "Who—no, _what_ —do you think I am? She's thirteen, dude."

Azazel, Odin, and the Geico Gecko all gave me nods full of worldly wisdom. "Around then is when many young people tend to become interested in things of a sexual nature."

"Lord Odin!" Rossweisse quickly interjected.

The gecko opened its mouth and said, **[Fresh panties.]**

My eyes went skyward, aiming in the direction I knew the Empire State Building was located. "If I have to die, then so be it. I'll let Thunder Thighs smite me. I've seen enough."

Odin glanced at Azazel. "What bargain bin did you pull this one from? I think he's defective."

"He's . . . had a rough couple of months." Azazel scratched his head.

After I calmed down, I asked, "Azazel, why is the gecko talking about panties?"

I was just so tired. Was it too much to ask for a break? For just a week or two where surprises were kept to the barest of minimums? That's all I wanted. Time to breathe, kick back, and relax.

"That," Azazel pointed at the lizard, "is Dragon King Fafnir."

A headache started to pound against my skull. "Yup, that's about par for the course."

Odin chuckled. "Just be glad there are still so many things in the world that can surprise you, kid. Once you get to my age, things start becoming less and less interesting. Until someone revamps the system, at least. And to tell you the truth, it's usually you mortals who give me the most entertainment."

"Well, I'm glad we could be your personal version of Lifetime television."

"Oh, I do love their holiday movies."

"You're kidding."

Odin looked away from me.

It took me a second to realize he wasn't kidding. I scratched at my temple. "Okay then."

"Shall we start with getting this little get-together rolling?" Odin asked. "I'd like to hit the town, so to speak, sooner rather than later."

"Yes, let's go ahead and get on with it," Azazel's face twisted a bit. His gaze flickered, edging toward the other side of New York Harbor. "Percy, I don't think this old man is gonna be attacking me any time soon. Why don't you head off and entertain yourself for a few hours."

As I wanted to take him up on the idea, something held me back. "I don't know if it's a good idea to leave you with the Panty Gecko over there."

 **[Panties are nice.]**

Azazel gave me a sidelong glance. "I think I can handle a couple of perverts and a fresh-faced Valkyrie."

"And no need to do even that." Odin gestured to Rossweisse. "Take her with you, boy."

Rossweisse protested. "Lord Odin, surely you don't believe I'll leave your side without any prior arrangement—"

The god cleaned his ear with a crooked finger. "Jeez, you sure are noisy. Do you not trust your chief and head of religion to handle an upstart brat like this childish man? Where is your faith? Has it gone along with all of your youthful ebullience?"

"But to go with someone we have no information on—"

"Now who should be complaining about spies?" Azazel laughed. "But your skullduggery could use work. Percy has been with the Grigori for almost two months now."

"Oh? Is that so? He hasn't made a splash big enough, then? A little fledgling just learning how to walk among the worst the world has to offer?" Odin pinned me with a single eye. "How odd. Well, no matter. We'll be seeing more of each other, I'm sure. This meeting is proof enough of that, at least when it comes to thawing of tense relations, wouldn't you both agree?"

I tried to not feel offended at how casually Odin brushed me off with those first couple remarks.

"So it would seem." Azazel crossed his arms. "Percy. Go."

The tone he'd taken brooked no room for me to argue. Well, I could always make room to argue (one of my favorite pastimes) but didn't feel the situation really called for it. After all, here I was, being given a chance to put lingering doubts to sleep with the fishes.

The sun was starting to fall in the sky, but a cold wind blew from New York Harbor. Even though Azazel and I left the Underworld right after an early breakfast, it looked like in New York it was some hours past noon.

My internal clock hated me.

"If you say so. Just keep that Panty Gecko away from me."

 **[Yes, panties are treasures, aren't they?]**

This gecko with a panty fetish was a king? A Dragon King with power equal to gods? The more I thought about it, the more I just decided to roll with the punches.

Everybody needed a hobby, right?

 _What has the world come to?_ I asked my brain-buddy.

Nekhbet rolled her eyes. _The world has always been filled with these types. Greeks, Egyptians, Norse . . . you just tend to ignore these kinds of thing._

 _Huh, is that so?_ I put up a partition between us. _Can you give me back control of my arm now?_

* * *

 **Part IV**

* * *

I'd wanted to take the ferry from Governors Island across to Lower Manhattan, then grab a taxi and head to Midtown for the Empire State Building.

Rossweisse 'Never-Had-A-Boyfriend' the Valkyrie, however, had other plans. Since she'd more or less been forced to tag along with me on my epic journey across the Big Apple, she planned to just teleport wherever we were going to visit.

Unfortunately, there was a surprising lack of dark alleyways in Korea Town where we wouldn't draw unwanted mortal attention, so our only option was teleporting inside the women's restroom of a nearby JCPenney.

I peeked out to make sure the coast was clear, then quickly exited the restroom with Rossweisse in tow.

"Good thing nobody was in there," I said, fiddling with Riptide in my pocket. New York, though it may have been home, was still a dangerous place for demigods.

How many times had I been attacked while out on a junk food run? Too many times. Way, _way_ too many times. Monsters, apparently, advocated for me to eat better. I couldn't go grab a bag of _Doritos_ without having ten hellhounds decide it was time for me to die.

"Yes, definitely a good thing," Rossweisse straightened out her clothing.

"Doing that only makes it look suspicious if someone saw us." I'd learned that the hard way with Annabeth. It wasn't so bad in front of strangers, but when your mom and stepdad notice, that day becomes permanently branded in your brain. I'll never forget when I'd been given a refresher on practicing safe sex by Paul. Almost made me wish Hyperion would attack me again. I probably would have felt less flushed.

"W-what? I didn't realize . . . " she coughed into her fist. "A-at any rate, let's go."

We pushed through the throngs of people going down the polished aisles. On our way, I asked, "Do you really _have_ to come with me?"

"Lord Odin told me to do so, and so do it I shall."

"If he told you to jump off a bridge, would you do that?"

She seemed a little taken aback. I'd admit, too, that my remark had been a little on the scathing side. My nerves were getting to me, though, and I was kind of annoyed that someone would be following me as I learned the truth once and for all.

It was an annoyance that Nekhbet was fast to mirror, so I had to deal with that.

"Sorry, that was rude," my apology fell flat, shattering on the ground like my mom's imitation china I'd dropped when I was six. Looking for a way to salvage the awkward air between us, I said, "I'm just having bad feelings being back home."

Rossweisse seemed surprised. "You're from here?"

"Yeah."

She tilted her head as we passed through the RF gate and exited the store onto 6th Avenue. "Why do you have bad feelings, then? I would think home would be full of fond memories for a person working so closely with the Grigori."

"Fondue memories, maybe," I said, recalling when Paul and my mom took Annabeth and me to Taureau for a fondue feast. "Pond memories too. And, yeah, I guess you could say fond memories. I grew up in this city."

"Why did you leave? Did something happen?"

In front of us, 6th Avenue bustled with activity. Taxi cabs, passenger cars, buses, NYPD cruisers, and pedestrians alike filled my vision with movement. Beyond the street was a relatively small concrete office building, and rising behind that was the full glory of the Empire State Building, where 102 floors stretched to kiss the sky.

But it was more than just that; the Empire State Building was so much more than just another marvel of engineering.

Above the entire city of New York sat the home of the Greek gods. Olympus. An entire city above a city. A world above the world.

My fingers tightened around Riptide's barrel. "A sorcerer happened—Egyptians happened—chaos happened. A _lot_ of things happened, and before I knew it, I was meeting Clifford the Big Red Dragon, then falling off the coast of Japan. So, yeah, there's that."

The Empire State Building loomed. I bit my lip and started to make my way toward a crosswalk. Rossweisse followed me quickly.

"Wait, you aren't saying you met the Dragon of Dragons, right?" She almost had to shout so that her voice wasn't carried away by the sound of car engines idling and the not-so-occasional honk. "Like, as in, the True Red Dragon God Emperor?"

"That _Sons of Anarchy_ reject? Yeah, I met him. He's got some sick moves."

"You met Great Red?" Rossweisse pulled in front of me as we cleared the street thanks to a helpful traffic officer, her voice high and astonished. "What was it like?"

I yanked my body to a stop because of her sudden maneuver. We stood on the sidewalk, practically blocking a lane of foot traffic, so I grabbed her hand and led her to a nearby awning. "He's the kindest, most gentle dragon I've ever met. He gave me cookies and milk and sat down to listen to all my problems."

Rossweisse stared at me.

"Look, I've met him once for, like, twenty seconds. There's just," I wiggled my hands, "not that much to tell. He didn't eat me, so I guess he's a cool dude."

"Ah, I see," Rossweisse rubbed her chin. "So it's like that? I wonder . . . but . . . hold on, how did you end up in the Dimensional Gap?"

"Luck of the draw?"

"That sounds like bad luck."

I wanted to laugh at that, but the weight of the situation really pressed down hard, and all I could do involved a very strained smile and my shoulders rising. "It was bad luck. Here's a lesson: you ever meet an Egyptian sorcerer, don't let him get inside your head. Don't listen to his sweet, sweet lies."

My advice must have reached her ears, because she gave me several strong nods, her hair fluttering like a curtain of silver. "T-thank you for that, Percy Jackson. Now, shall we be off?"

"Sure, let's be off."

* * *

 **Part V**

* * *

While I'd say I recognized the Empire State Building's lobby, it would be a stretch to say it hadn't changed significantly.

"They polished the floors," I said, as another group of teenagers jostled me from behind. My eyes narrowed and shot to them, making the group back up a bit. "And they added that guest area off 34th Street."

Rossweisse made a noise like _EEP!_ and whirled around, her face a bright scarlet. "Who touched me?"

The gaggle of people around us made it impossible to tell. Nobody even seemed to be paying her any attention, so I just shook my head and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "It happens in crowded places like this. Probably just an accident."

"Easy for you to say!" she huffed. "You weren't just groped."

We made our way to the ticket booths. I'd been going over how to discuss the six-hundredth floor with the employees. I didn't have drachma to bribe them. I wasn't carrying Zeus' master bolt. I didn't have a small army of demigods behind me.

All I had was my professional appearance, world-renowned wit, and a conflicted-looking Valkyrie.

Oh, and Riptide.

Hey . . . now there was an idea.

When it was finally our turn, I stepped up to the ticket master and said, "Six-hundredth floor, please."

The guy behind the glass gave me a stare of complete, genuine, and utter confusion. "Six-hundredth floor? There's no such thing."

I hesitated, but pressed on, remembering that the guards I'd met before also tried to deny the existence of Olympus. "Do we really have to do this song and dance? Does the name Percy Jackson ring any bells? Battle of Manhattan? Ally of justice, vanquisher of evil, master of the universe?"

Behind me, I heard Rossweisse hiss, "What are you doing?"

The ticket master looked around. "Is this some kind of prank? We really don't have time to entertain people."

It appeared the time had come to break out the big guns, so to speak.

"All right, you drive a hard bargain." I wagged my finger at the guy and uncapped Riptide, setting the sword on the counter. "Maybe this will convince you otherwise. Pure celestial bronze. This baby has gotten me out of _at least_ four life-or-death situations."

The man's eyes widened at seeing it. "What in God's name—?"

A hand tightened around my elbow, pulling me away from the counter. Rossweisse jumped in front of the window. A glowing circle expanded beneath our feet, light coming to flash just a second later, followed by the sound of a camera shutter clicking.

When the light died, I saw the ticket master blinking rapidly.

"Put your sword away," Rossweisse whispered to me through clenched teeth as she turned to the man with a smile.

I did. Rossweisse took hold of my arm again, forcefully leading me down the stairs and back into the main lobby. I didn't resist until we were back outside.

"What were you thinking?" She stomped her foot. "Are you trying to expose the supernatural to humans everywhere or what?"

"What are you talking about?" I glanced back at the building. "That guy saw Riptide . . . but I got the feeling he was just a mortal."

"Of course he saw it! Everybody with working eyes could see that when you whip it out so conspicuously!"

Ignoring the opportunity for an easy joke, I frowned instead. "Well, normal mortals wouldn't see my sword. The Mist would make them see something else. Like a cane or XXL tube of toothpaste."

She stared at me as if I'd said the most ridiculous thing possible. "What 'mist'?"

I gulped.

* * *

 **Part VI**

* * *

Okay, so hear me out . . . the Mist didn't exist.

I wish I'd known that _before_ my stunt back in the Empire State Building, though. Hard to believe that in my seven weeks working with Azazel I hadn't learned that there was no more Mist for me to fall back on. Now, I'd have to be a lot more careful when fighting around mortals.

Maybe I should have expected things to work much differently, but doing so would have been admitting that my world and this world didn't share commonalities.

"You're from an entirely different world?" Rossweisse pinched her cheeks. "Another world. A different world. A new world. A demigod son of the Greek god Poseidon from an entirely different dimension, with an entirely different set of rules and parameters, falling into the Egyptian Sea of Chaos, meeting Great Red, and then becoming a member of the Grigori."

She started to laugh—something borderline frantic and just toeing the line of crying. "He's crazy, right? Yeah, he must be crazy! It's not possible, right? Yup, not possible at all."

"You're having a conversation with yourself and _I'm_ the crazy one?" My words seemed to draw her out of whatever funk she'd fallen into.

"A-ah! Sorry, Mr. Jackson, I didn't realize you were there."

She and I stood outside of the apartment building I used to live in with my mom and Paul. My stomach was twisting in knots, curled so tight into a dense ball of white-hot lead I felt like it would burn right through my guts.

It was everything Nekhbet could do to keep my crippling anxiety at bay. She didn't let me hear the end of it either, but for the most part, I went ahead and ignored her, knowing full well what she was saying behind my back anyway.

Rossweisse was still muttering.

I had told her a bit about myself in the cab we'd taken to the Upper East Side, so she knew me better than I knew her.

"So the Greek gods of your world live above the Empire State Building? I see; that's why Azazel let you go, then. The Governor seems to have a soft side to him, wouldn't you agree?"

I'd been thinking something along the same lines. Azazel had planned this whole thing for my benefit. Well, maybe not all of it, considering he was still getting a deal with Fafnir, but there were probably dozens of other places he could have picked for the meeting. It didn't have to be New York.

Rossweisse looked up. She knew I used to live in this exact building in my world. "You must be nervous to see this place again," she noted a little too casually.

Well, I definitely wasn't relaxed. Now, if Briares could give me one of his famous hundred-handed back massages, I'd probably be feeling a little lighter around the shoulders.

 _A massage does sound nice right about now,_ Nekhbet groaned. _The weight of your worry is quite heavy. How do you mortals bear such cumbersome emotion for longer than a minute?_

I internally shrugged. _Innate talent? I dunno. But thanks for keeping me from having a panic attack._

 _You are welcome. Now get this over with so we can move on. And just so you know, I refuse to do this for much longer. I've been acting as your crutch for seven weeks. Soon, I'll leave the burden of your emotions for you to handle._

We walked up to the five-story brick apartment building. Paul usually parked his Prius under this big tree on a side street just a hundred feet down, but I hadn't seen it on our way.

People passed us by on the sidewalk. Most of them just staring straight ahead or quickly stealing glances at their phones. Some people took a second or two to turn their attention our way. I felt hyper-aware of the fact that there were eyes stopping on myself and Rossweisse, though most of them went to her, which didn't surprise me considering her appearance.

The immediate, striking headiness of gasoline had mostly faded since we first exited the JCPenney. Now that we were on this street, just a few more steps from the rusted intercom panel of my old apartment building, I could smell the burning exhaust again, like poison, so jarring it managed to make me nauseous.

Steps covered in dark stains of unknown origin; I took them up to the metal door, careful not to put my hand on the sticky railing for support. Keeping my balance never seemed worth serious infection.

My legs wobbled a little on the second to last step, knees weak.

On the sidewalk to my right was a man selling hugs for two dollars, which was a pretty good deal for the comfort. I wondered if he sold premium hugs.

I was stalling. Of course I was stalling. The dense ball of lead in my stomach had eaten through the lining, split in half, and dropped into both of my feet, anchoring me on the last step, in that fashion keeping me from reaching the listed residents on the intercom panel.

Begrudgingly, I took those final few steps forward.

My eyes stayed glued to the panel for a long, long time. Our name wasn't there.

Eventually, I turned away and moved down the stairs, down to the bottom where Rossweisse waited.

"I'm going to Long Island."

Rossweisse blinked. "Oh, okay, do you want to take a taxi again or should we find a place to teleport?"

I looked at her. "I'd, uh, rather be . . . alone."

Pity sagged her features. "I understand."

I took the next taxi to stop for me and told him where to go. The drive down the north shore of Long Island was a long one. I felt like I'd fallen asleep more than once, but knew that wasn't as much the case as I'd just zoned out in trying to justify why I hadn't seen "Jackson" listed. They could have moved, after all. Yeah, that was probably it, I thought.

By the time we got to Farm Road, the sun was mostly behind the horizon, a brilliant orange-red eruption of color which cut through the sparse cover the trees around us provided. Shadows stretched long and wide.

I gave the cabbie his pay and stepped out. The Atlantic filled my senses, tumultuous, incomprehensible, vast, and deep—it all just swirled together in my blood. A sea of power.

In a way, the Atlantic wasn't far off from how my brain felt: chaotic and uncomprehending. My feet dragged up the hill.

Half-Blood Hill. This was supposed to be Half-Blood Hill. But it didn't feel like the hill I'd come to know and love after years of trudging up its grassy face.

Beyond the ache in my chest and the cramping in my intestines, I felt short of breath, light-headed, and generally in a bad way. My hands wouldn't stop trembling. My neck and face were warm. Sweat pooled in uncomfortable areas.

I reached the top of the hill—the hill I _knew_ should have been hiding a sanctuary down inside a valley. Once I stood at the top, I should have been able to see one of the only safe places in the world for Greek half-bloods.

 _Jackson._

But I saw nothing except the Long Island Sound.

I staggered to the nearest tree and slid down the trunk, sitting so that the bark dug into the fleshy parts of my back.

Tears finally fell cleanly down my face. A cross between breathy laugher and a painful sigh left me as I stared at the water.

 _Jackson . . . will you be . . . ?_

For the longest time, I just let myself stare blankly, all while the sun dipped down to the west and burned hot against the left side of my face.

 _What now?_ Nekhbet asked.

"I think I'll—uh—sit here." My eyes kept locked on the Long Island Sound, down, down beyond the downward slope of the hill and further than the narrow beachhead. "Gotta think about a few things."

 _Very well_ , Nekhbet agreed.

And so we sat there, on the top of that place, alone for the first time in forever.

* * *

 **Part VII**

* * *

The sun had set when Rossweisse stepped atop the hill's crest, a small ball of light in her hand to see the way. Magic was cool.

"How did you find me?" I asked.

She stared at the ball. "Your aura is, frankly speaking, bright and peculiar and definite and . . . concrete. Nobody else in the city is Percy Jackson. There's only you."

"Only me. Yeah, true enough."

"I told Governor-General Azazel," she said.

"And?"

She pursed her lips. "He wasn't very helpful. All he said was that he was counting on me. And giving me a single recommendation on how to handle this."

"Sounds like something he'd say. The guy is too engine-matic."

"I think you mean _enigmatic_."

"Isn't that what I said?"

"No, you said . . . never mind."

I breathed a chuckle through my nose. "Guess I did make it sound like he was a Transformer. Angel-bots, roll out."

For a while after that, neither of us said anything.

She stood awkwardly, looking at the moon, while I stared into the ball of light in her hand, lost.

Finally, she asked, "Do you want to get something to eat?"

I nodded.

I nodded because anything else would have been the final failure I could allow myself.

* * *

 **End Chapter**

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks again to everyone for reading, and to those who leave comments.**


	4. IV

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School DxD or PJO.**

* * *

4\. Conversations, Heroes, and the Cost of My Life

* * *

 **Part I**

* * *

I saw Egypt as it had once been. Magnificent; especially when I could look down from a bird's eye view. I watched as people toiled in the desert, heaving huge blocks of limestone using sleds and water. Their muscles corded, faces twisted from the exertion and drenched with sweat, feet occasionally slipping through the fine sand as they fought to find purchase.

The scene changed. I was low to the ground now, the same height as all the other mortals that crowded around me. People bartered on the streets, shaking their heads disappointedly or grinning in agreement at some kind of deal. Linen, grain, bread, dried fish, vegetables, oils; they all had their place in the local markets, which farmers and other small-time artisans would frequent for simple luxuries like alcohol or a new _shendyt_.

From there, I was again whisked away, this time arriving at the bank of the Nile. Water ran red as more of the sun settled further behind the horizon. A crocodile drifted through the river, stopping to give me an evil eye before it continued on its way. The message felt clear: Sobek was watching. Always watching. Just like I, Nekhbet, the protector of Egypt, did.

Power. I could feel the divine essence of my godliness thrum in my sinew, beat with every squeeze of my heart, fire with every twitch of a muscle. I was a god. I was divine. I was meant to be revered. I was—

"I'm glad to see you're doing better."

Azazel's words brought me back from the trippy moment. My concentration evaporated, and the glow from Nekhbet's purple energy went along with it, whisked away like smoke.

I opened my eyes.

Me. I was Percy Jackson.

Not Nekhbet.

Man, that had been weird. But also necessary, according to Nekhbet. (Didn't know if I could trust her on that.)

The ocean's dull roar soon picked up in my ears, along with cawing gulls and the strong winter winds coming from the east. My back hurt after having been sitting straight for so long.

But how long had it been, exactly? The sky didn't tell me anything since the sun was hidden behind thick, fluffy clouds.

From how I felt, I'd say four hours, give or take an eternity.

"Le Fay told you where I was, huh?" I didn't really have to ask. There wasn't anybody else at Grigori HQ who would've worried about me being gone for so long. I stretched out, the fell back onto the sand, laying with my hands behind my head.

Le Fay had been the one to teleport me here, to the place where I'd met Vali, on the resort beach of Shirahama, Japan. Why did I ask to be here out of all the beaches in the world? Why here instead of a nice, warm, sunny place like Hawaii or St. Lucia?

Because why not? By Azazel's reckoning, Shirahama was technically the place I'd been born in with regards to this new world.

"She's worried about you." Azazel sat down in the sand next to me. He came casual, with a pair of Bermuda shorts and a tropically patterned shirt. "I'd been expecting some sunshine, but instead we get this dreary weather, eh? How sad."

I glanced at the sky. "No tanning for us today, I guess."

He chuckled quietly. "No, guess not."

A silence passed between us for some time. I didn't know what to say.

Three weeks ago I'd learned the truth about my situation. A simple truth, but a biting one nonetheless. It had been December, and made for an awful early Christmas present.

Now, it was January, a new year with new resolutions despite me being from the old world.

Right, my world was gone. The old world. My "Old World" had been destroyed by an ancient Egyptian sorcerer hoping to sell snowglobes of himself as a god.

Ah, no matter how I phrased it, the truth was a hard pill to swallow. After all, everything I'd ever done in my world . . . no, I wouldn't say it was all for no reason, but heck if it didn't feel that way sometimes. Really, it did, which usually brought my mood down for being such a pessimist. I guess you could say it was a case of me having the old world blues.

 _Remember, Jackson,_ Nekhbet piped up in the distance. _As long as you live, they'll live too._

Yeah, that's what she'd been telling me ever since that day, since that visit to New York in this new world. The people who I'd left behind in my world were a part of me. They were with me, and would always be with me.

I had never been fighting for myself. I'd always been fighting for them, for their future.

And you know what? I would keep fighting for them. None of them would want to see me miserable, so the least I could do would be honoring their memory.

Mom, Annabeth, Tyson, Grover. Those guys were just too good for me. They deserved better than the kind of son, boyfriend, brother, and friend I'd turned out to be. But if all I could do was live vicariously for them, for the life they'd lost, then so be it.

"It's good to see you're less tense than before," Azazel planted his hands behind him and kicked his legs out. He rested with a crooked smile on his mouth, eyes glued to the ocean.

"I am? How's that?"

"Well, it's hard to explain. But for those two months when you first came to us, I think it was pretty obvious you were off your game."

"How would you know when I'm 'on' my game?" I decided not to look at him either.

The waves came at us, only to wane and waver about twenty feet from our position, then roll to a stop and recede just before it bathed our feet.

That was me. I didn't want the sea's water to crinkle Arthur's pants. Or ruin his shoes. No joke, these duds must've cost him half a fortune. I couldn't really reimburse him that entire amount since my bank account was definitely lacking the necessary zeroes.

Who am I kidding? I don't even have a bank account.

Azazel sighed. "I'm old, kid. I'm really old. Mind you, I wouldn't say on par with Odin, Zeus, Śakra, or those older, more ancient gods, but I've seen my fair share of stuff. I think I know your type."

I tilted my head back. "Well, I try to be as uncomplicated as possible." The water rushed toward us, unimpeded this time, and washed over our bodies.

I willed myself to stay dry. Azazel didn't have that luxury. When the swash receded, he was left drenched, which I'll admit made me smile.

"Yeah, you're a straightforward ass," Azazel glared. He twisted his colorful abomination of a shirt to wring it dry. "Ungrateful punk."

"Sorry, lost my concentration."

"I bet," he grumbled, slicking his hair back to get his gold bangs out of his eyes. "I'm serious, though. I'm just taking a wild swing at things here, but before you learned the truth, all that anxiety, all that doubt, all that fear; it was all chewing through you faster than you thought."

Sometimes I thought Azazel was too observant.

"Yeah. I just figured that if I pretended everything was fine, somehow, it really would be." I closed my eyes against the wind, breathing in the salty air. "My girlfriend once told me I was a coward—that I ran away when I got scared. She'll never hear me admit it, but she was right."

"If you say so." Azazel hummed. "So, about meeting Olympus World . . ."

I twisted my lips, eyes still closed. "Not really a big deal anymore. You're right. They aren't gonna be the same. And even if they were, it doesn't matter."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Forget about it."

We kept quiet for a bit after that. It was a nice silence right up until he decided to ruin it again.

"Your girlfriend. Annabeth, right?"

Gray, intelligent eyes, a careful smile, hair tied back; I saw her again at that moment, and was reminded of just how beautiful she was. "Yeah. Her name was Annabeth Chase."

"Was?"

"She's gone." I bit the inside of my cheek. Something inside my chest coiled painfully around my heart. "She's gone now."

"Coming to terms with that?"

I wasn't so sure. My eyes opened slowly. "Dunno. There's nothing I can do about it, though. Sometimes I feel it was my fault, but then Bird Brain starts berating me."

"Good, good." Azazel patted his damp shirt down and started working on his shorts. "You keep blaming yourself, and you'll start sounding conceited. Remember, kid, not everything is about you. Sometimes, you gotta let other people step into the spotlight. In this case, Setne. His fault, not yours."

"You come all this way just to cheer me up?" I asked. "Should I be worried?"

"How's it been going with the Valkyrie? Or should I call her your little pen-pal?"

Right, Rossweisse. I'm not sure why, but after meeting in New York and having a pretty subdued dinner together, she'd been sending letters to the Grigori, all addressed to me.

Unfortunately, her letters had to go through Penemue, so each time one arrived, I had to hear about it laden with Penemue's risqué undertones.

For the most part, Rossweisse had said she wanted to check up on me, but from the sound of her messages, it seemed to me that she was just lonely. I never heard anything about friends of hers or anything of the sort. She never told me much about herself. Still, writing back to her was the least I could do.

My old world was a topic she was very interested in. I don't think I minded. Beyond that, I suppose it felt nice writing about my past.

It was, at the very least, much easier to deal with than speaking about it with someone.

"Tell me about her?"

I gave Azazel a look that said, _What are you talking about?_

He clarified with a certain air of nonchalance and tact. "Your girlfriend. Annabeth Chase."

My look turned skeptical. "This is a first. Why do you want to know?"

"Color me intrigued. She's clearly a person you hold very close to your heart. She must have shaped at least part of who you are. Both when she was alive, and now, after her passing."

"If that's the case, you should be asking about my mom."

"Well, we can talk about her too, if you'd like."

"What're you after, Azazel?" I finally asked. "You hardly ever take the time out of your day to talk to us if it isn't something important. I've got a hard time believing today is an exception."

He gave me an oblique smirk. "Why can't you just humor me?"

"'Cause I was kinda in the middle of something." I lifted my arm. Purple power spread down from my bicep, first coming to be visible like glowing juice in my veins, then crackling like pockets of embers above my skin, and finally amalgamating into a thin coat of flickering energy stretching the length of my arm.

Azazel whistled. "Impressive. Touki? Usually, only people trained in senjutsu are able to manipulate their vitality into touki. And that kind of training takes a while. Or you could push your body to its max."

"Yeah, well," I closed my fist, and the energy broke. It wasn't touki, but I didn't tell him that. "I can't afford to be a limp noodle with Vali and Bikou and Arthur all piling on the pressure. Those guys love fighting way too much."

"Who's idea was it?" Azazel clarified, "To get you into senjutsu training."

I scratched my chin. "Uh, Le Fay's."

"Ah, of course. Should've seen that one coming a mile away. She's observant. Probably figured you could do _something_ with Nekhbet's power—though she doesn't know about the god being inside you. Scary. That girl is scary."

All I could do was nod. Le Fay had played a big part in pushing me to do more than the bare minimum for my job.

Her and Vali both, though I suspected Vali just wanted to fight me as I intermittently got stronger. The guy was fixated on me, I'm telling you, and while that might have been flattering, it also kind of creeped me out. He needed a better hobby to divert all that pent-up energy toward. Maybe I could suggest he take up basket weaving?

"Wondering why she's with Vali's team?" Azazel asked, bringing me back to the conversation.

Doing my best to shrug, I told him, "Vali said he recruited her and Arthur at the same time, so I guess it makes sense."

"Le Fay is a good person. She's a lot like you, in that regard. You're both good people. You know, she left her position in the Golden Dawn—a very prestigious and selective group of magicians—just to make sure her brother stayed safe."

I wanted to sigh. But I didn't. "Seriously? Man, she really is way too kind."

Azazel fell back onto the sand, crossing his arms behind his head. "But do you think she does these things out of the actual kindness of her heart?"

"I don't follow."

"How can a person be so kind? In this world of ours, how can anybody remain so warm?"

My head turned to him. "Heated blankets?"

He sighed. "How can she keep up with her care every time you see her? Haven't you ever wondered that? It wouldn't be a stretch to say her kindness is over-the-top, exaggerated, and fake."

Azazel pointed at me lazily. "Not too different from your attempts at acting normal. You wanted to fit in. You wanted to ignore the troubles of your mind. You used us as a crutch through humor, warmth, and faux-happiness, without even realizing how easy your act was to interpret."

I narrowed my eyes, indignant at being called out even though I knew he was right. But just because he was right didn't mean I appreciated the abrasive tone he decided to take, as if he were trying to patronize me.

"Hoh? Ah, don't give me that look, kid," Azazel wagged his finger. "Like I said, I'm old. Give your elders some respect when they're trying to make a point. After all, I'm saying this to help you, you know? The words 'no offense' are implied here, and to think I had to give you explicit detail—ah, man, that's just a little disappointing on all the wrong levels."

"You want me to read between the lines?"

"Subtext and overtones are key, kid. Nobody is real. Everything you see is a fake." He pulled out a purple jewel from his pants pocket. "This here is where Fafnir currently resides. It's well on its way to becoming a great success in Sacred Gear technology. Sure, it may be a fake, but that's the beauty of it, right? Fake things: fake smiles, fake laughs, fake happiness, fake love, fake hate . . . when something fake tries hard enough to become the real deal, it's value is not estimable. That fake piece of crap suddenly become priceless."

 _And do you know why?_ He continued with that, then said, "It's because we put a subjective value on everything—absolutely every damn thing. Real or fake, who gives a shit? As long as it has value to someone, who cares? And if that fake thing has value to a bunch of people? Well, there you have it: an invaluable fraud. Isn't that just a little sickening?"

I shrugged. "Never really thought about it."

"Think about it now."

"I mean jeez, Azazel, why'd you have to start with this stuff?" I ruffled my hair. "Okay, okay, I guess it's a little weird. Happy?"

He gave me a much more acute smirk this time. "You're probably wondering what the lesson is, right? Why I decided to take the time out of both of our days to tangent from our original conversation."

Bingo. I'd been wondering exactly that, though it wasn't surprising he knew, what with his penchant for leading discussions in whatever direction he had in mind. The guy was a social tyrant; always in control of the dialogue.

"I _know_ you have a reason for telling me all this."

He nodded assuredly. "I do! It's because I want you to know that taking things at face value is a pretty good way to end up getting burned. I think you owe Le Fay an apology, is kind of what I'm getting at. And at the same time, I think she owes you one as well. But since you're older, wouldn't it make sense for you to be the one to acknowledge that fraudulence."

"Why are you here, Azazel?" I frowned. "And when did age come into this?"

"Age always plays a role. Anyway, I've told you what you needed to hear. Be careful when you try to make a fake thing real, because to another person, well, that fake might become more valuable than the real to them."

"Which is . . . bad?" I guessed.

He tossed the round jewel into the air a few times, juggling it with one hand. "Take this container here. It has the soul of a Dragon King locked inside of it. But it's nothing more than a counterfeit-in-progress. And yet, do you know how many people would love to take this from me? Do you know how many would risk their lives to claim this fake?"

I picked up a handful of sand. The granules slipped between my open fingers. "At least ten."

He nodded. "You're not wrong, though I would tack on a few zeroes at the end of that number. But the message still stands: this fraud is working so hard to become the real deal, that it's already more valuable than some of the Sacred Gears the God of the Bible made. Impressive, right? I'm a genius. Now if I could only get the data of another dragon. Preferably the Welsh dragon, though . . . anyway, science and art aren't too different."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, you're regular Leonardo DiCaprio."

"da Vinci," Azazel said.

"Sure, him."

Azazel stood up, pocketing the jewel. "Keep doing what you're doing, kid. You don't have to fake anything around us if you don't want to, or if it's giving you grief. I think we all prefer to see you as a foil to ourselves. You're alien. But also familiar. Unknown, and yet intimately close. You're human, but also something lesser and something greater. You're a character in this story—not the main one, but more of an em dash, the offset and off-stage drink of water."

He started walking away. Before he got too far, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder by tilting his head diagonally backward. "Be the interdiction in this world. Be interventionism. Or be an enabler. Be the continuation of this ridiculous farce we're all playing: Vali, Kuroka, Bikou, Arthur, Le Fay, Barakiel, Penemue, Kokabiel, myself . . . you can always add or remove your name from that list at any time."

He smiled. "Eventually, though, you'll have to take a stance. Because your name can only be erased so much before the paper gets smudged. Isn't that right, Percy Jackson?"

With a final flick of a wave, he turned and left me be.

 _Alone again,_ Nekhbet sighed. _Finally_.

I pursed my lips. "He talks too much."

 _Ignore him for now. We still have a ways to go before I help you practice senjutsu without that cat around. You may not have the blood of pharaohs coursing through you, and therefore you can never truly become the Eye of Nekhbet, but we can reach the cusp of doing so. We will come as close to perfection as we can. And to do that—_

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've gotta 'learn to minimize how much of your power I expend' at any given time and 'gain confidence in acting like a god' blah, blah, blah. Can we get started again?"

 _You cheeky little son of a—_

"Let's keep it PG, Neckbutt."

 _Shut up, close your eyes, and concentrate._

Nodding, I took a breath and went back into focus, the power of the ocean trickling into my blood. I still had miles to go, but Azazel's words haunted me.

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

February rolled around, and I hadn't taken Azazel's advice to apologize.

Did that make me a bad person? Along those same lines, would apologizing if I felt there was nothing to apologize for be hypocritical, since I would be faking the apology?

These kinds of thoughts had been popping into my mind more often ever since I'd spoken to Azazel on the beach. Even though it had almost been an entire month . . . but just thinking about it only made me unnecessarily anxious.

A very light poke to my cheek prodded me to look in the direction of Le Fay. She smiled when my attention fell on her.

"You were fidgeting again," she said quietly. We were seated on the patio of a cafe in Romania, a town just a dozen miles from the Bulgarian border. Azazel had given us a job to catch up with a local group of vampires. Or rather, I should say, he'd given _me_ the job, but since I couldn't teleport, it was a given that somebody else had to come with me. Le Fay naturally volunteered, the precocious munchkin that she was.

I apologized with a smile. "Sorry, force of habit. 'Patience' and 'Percy' are two words that don't go well together in a sentence."

"What about . . . " she thought hard, scrunching her face. "Oh, what if I said 'Percy does not have patience'? What would you say then?"

"I'd probably ask you to stop bullying me."

She picked up her Turkish coffee with both hands, a giggle blowing air into the dark drink so that it almost dribbled over the cup. Her smile was half-hidden, but it prevented her from drinking, so she ended up having to just stare at the table for a few seconds before calming down enough to sip.

Setting the cup down, she said, "Do you think anybody would believe you if you told them, 'Please help, this girl is bullying me.'? I'm curious."

I took another bite of the brânzoaice dessert from my plate. The cheese filling was particularly strong, and not something I was used to when I thought about dessert (I'd never been a fan of cheesecake), but the little pastries were delicious nonetheless.

"Good thing I'm not a snitch, then," I said lightly. "That said, I think your brother would believe me."

"Ah, well Arthur doesn't count! Blood siblings shouldn't be part of the dispute." She took a pastry from my plate and popped it in her mouth.

I stared as it disappeared, mourning the loss of a tasty Romanian treat. "Yeah, well, Arthur would totally have my back. He knows you."

"Not if you can't tell him."

I raised my eyebrows. "That's . . . vaguely threatening. Should I be scared?"

She sipped her coffee, the corners of her mouth held tight to keep a smile from breaking out. Her eyes peered over the rim of her cup, sparkling as the sky blazed with morning sunshine.

"Did you poison my coffee?" I swirled the contents of my cup around.

"Do I look like a witch to you?" Le Fay protested. She playfully glared at me. At least, I hope it was meant to be playful, because there wasn't a single threatening thing about it. "Why would I want to poison you, anyway? These past few months have been—well they've been really, really fun!"

Oh? The conversation had somehow taken a turn for either the better or for the worst, depending on how I went about answering.

Then again, I could always just keep the road safe by just agreeing with her. And that would have been the kind thing to do.

But did she need the kind thing? Or did she need the right thing? I didn't know. Maybe she needed both. That would be problematic.

 _This is a bad idea, Jackson._ Nekhbet shook her head.

I told her, _You'll have to get used to that. I'm full of them._

"Le Fay."

"Hm?" She took another of my desserts.

"If I bought you imitation crab, what would you think about me?"

"Huh?" she tilted her head and stared at me, bewildered. "Oh, is this a game? Okay, let me see. Hmmm. I would think you're trying to save the crabs! Very generous of you!"

"Right." I took a sip of my (hopefully not poisoned) coffee. That plan of attack had failed, so I had to look at it from a different angle. "Okay, let's say you wanted a dog—"

"I _have_ always wanted a puppy."

"Right. You want a puppy. So, hypothetically, let's say I brought home a baby bear and tried to pass it off as a puppy. What would you think then?"

Her lips puckered and drifted to the side as she _hm'd_ and _hah'd,_ no doubt trying to figure out why I was being unnecessarily obtuse.

Eventually, she snapped her fingers. "It's the thought that counts."

Not the answer I was looking for, but if that didn't show her character, then what could?

I decided to give up while I was ahead. "That's just like you, isn't it?"

"Well, I would like to think that instead of going out and getting a puppy, which I'm sure isn't too troublesome, you decided to try and go the extra mile and get me a bear cub. At least then, I could see you were doing it out of thoughtfulness, and not because you were lazy or malicious."

She smiled down at her coffee. "Honestly, what would you have to gain in that situation anyway? Getting me a bear cub? Weird. Really weird. But that's, like, so something I could see you doing by accident. It would be a very 'Percy Jackson' moment, wouldn't you say? And I know, since it's you, that whatever the reason, it couldn't have been to hurt me. If anything, it'd be the opposite."

I leaned back in my chair. "You're just way too kind."

"Ah-ha," she rubbed the back of her head. For the most part, she'd changed clothes, leaving her cape and hat back at the compound to blend in. It was . . . strange to see her without all the hubbub. "I don't think that's true at all. I'm pretty sure I'm like everyone else. If it means anything, I think you're way nicer!"

Another Dacia Nova drove by, making it the eightieth I'd seen in the past fifteen minutes. I guess you could hardly begrudge the Romanians for showing national pride in their manufacturers.

Besides, despite the somewhat blocky design, I'd heard Dacias were quite reliable.

"How'd you figure that?" I asked, figuring that arguing wouldn't get me anywhere in this conversation. Le Fay could be stubborn when she wanted.

"Well, how can I put it . . . " she drummed her fingers on the table. "I don't want to sound too blunt, but looking back on how we met, I would say you didn't have to force yourself to be normal around us. Given the circumstances, I think all of us—that _us_ meaning Lord Vali's team and Azazel—we all would have understood if you spent more time moping, or grieving, or being angry. But you didn't do any of that. In the end, you tried to shrug things off for our benefit, right? To make us feel more comfortable. You jumped right into the work and never seriously complained."

She continued: "In doing so, though, it felt unnatural. Strange. Like you were auditioning for a part in a play. Like the character with a tragic past who tries to cover up the pain with humor. For example, have you ever watched an Abbott and Costello act?"

"Abbott and Costello?" The name might have been familiar. But I ended up shrugging. "No, I don't think so."

"Darn," Le Fay pouted. Then her expression brightened. "But that just means it's another thing we can add to the list! Oh, I'm sure you'll love it. Their skits were some of the best known in the United States during their time. And it still holds up today."

I smiled at her. "Always a good thing."

"Right?"

"Now that you mentioned it, though," I glanced at the coffee, "I think I owe you an apology anyway."

She cocked her head. "Apology? For what? I don't think you owe me an apology for anything."

 _She's right. Apologizing is for the weak, the insecure, the prey. You should be none of those things._ Nekhbet decided to give me my daily dose of annoying edginess. _Haven't you seen what depending on people wrought us? Failure. Depend on nothing but your own strength, and you'll never have to burden anybody else. Be sure in your own power. Dedicate yourself wholly to self-improvement, and you'll never lose again. Why can't I have gotten someone like that?_

I went ahead and took her advice with a grain of salt. And I'm not talking the pink Himalayan chunky stuff that Paul used to buy.

"No, I think it'd make sense if I apologized. Just want to get it off my chest. So, yeah. What I'm trying to say is that—uh—sorry for acting weird with you guys."

"A-ah. No, don't worry about it. I'm sorry for even bringing it up! I knew I shouldn't have done that. Please, you don't have to feel bad for coping in whatever way you could," Le Fay tried to give me a placating smile, but it didn't feel natural. "Almost everybody on Lord Vali's team has some kind of troubled past. Sometimes . . . I feel like I've lived an easy life compared to everyone else."

She looked away from me, a pained crinkle growing by the corner of her mouth. "I don't like feeling like I can relate. How am I supposed to make you feel better if I don't know what you're feeling at all?"

 _I hate it,_ Le Fay added, quiet enough that I almost missed it as another car trundled by us.

"It's just so frustrating not being able to do anything except act like this." Her eyes had locked on something further inside the cafe. With a satisfied nod, she looked at me and smiled. "But if it's all I can do until life decides to throw me a curveball, then I'll do my best! So please, continue to rely on me. I'll do my best to make sure you feel like you can trust us, okay? And if not the rest of the team, then me, at the very least."

I swallowed. The lump which had grown in my throat didn't want to go down. "Sure. That sounds like a plan. Thanks."

She fidgeted. "Well, you're part of the family, now. I'd do anything for family."

The lump grew a little bigger.

My mom had been about five months pregnant. Just a few days before I'd fought Setne, she'd come home with news: a girl. I was going to be getting a little sister. Of course, that wasn't possible anymore.

But be that as it may, Le Fay had pretty much managed to fill that space. In a way, I suppose I'd come to see her as my surrogate sister. Or something like that.

A news report played on a small portable television, which sat mounted above the cafe's counter. A freak storm system had been blasting the eastern United States for a couple of days now. I just hoped I didn't have to deal with Typhon again in this world.

"Hey, Le Fay."

She cocked her head. "Hm?"

"D'you think you could teach me how to cook?" I asked.

A broad smile blossomed on her face. "Absolutely!"

I smiled back at her. "Cool. We'll need to stop by the store first for some food dye, though. There's a pretty big deficiency in blue food."

"Huh? Blue food?"

"That's right," I nodded. "It exists, and it's awesome."

"Did you hear that, Georg? An adoption right before our eyes."

A feverish chill ran down my spine. I was up and on my feet, Nekhbet's power crackling to life around my hand.

Just in time, too. The blade of a spear nearly cut into me had I not caught it, the tip angled only a few inches away from my shoulder. But even though I'd stopped myself from being gouged, the spear still sent me skidding back into the cafe, my shoes trying hard to find purchase on the painted concrete floor.

Then, the spear retracted, zipping back through the cafe, over tables and chairs until it found its way outside, into the waiting hand of a dude dressed like a martial artist or something.

I glanced at my hand quickly. The avatar had held firm, but for some reason, my palm was smoking as if I'd just tried to catch a meteorite. It stung like crazy.

"Percy!"

Le Fay came bounding over. When I saw the guy's eyes go to her, I vaulted over the nearest table. Riptide was already springing to life. I got beside her as she turned to face Spear Dude.

"Ah, I thought that I recognized you, Le Fay Pendragon. Well, it certainly has been a while, eh?" Spear Dude smiled calmly. "How is your brother doing? Siegfried has been beside himself without Arthur."

Le Fay trembled in place and didn't respond.

Spear Dude looked back toward the street. "Georg, is the barrier complete?"

Purple mist had started to encroach upon the area. From a dense patch of the stuff came a guy with short dark hair and glasses, dressed in funky red robes that made him look like a cultist (sans the obligatory hood).

"The dimension has been set. It won't hold for long, or under a lot of pressure. I had to make it hastily." The guy called Georg commented off-handedly, as if he were just reporting on the weather. "Since this was a detour, we're better off getting it over with quickly anyway, so"—he shrugged—"please do try to keep it under control."

"Right, right," Cao Cao tapped the shaft of his spear against his shoulder. "Well, it's good to see you again, Le Fay. How long has it been? Nine months? Eight? Does it matter, actually? We haven't spoken since you and Arthur left us."

"U-uh," Le Fay took a step back. "Y-yes, it's been a long time . . . Lord Cao Cao."

The guy laughed a bit. "That's an unnecessary level of respect your giving me. We're both descendants of great people. And up until now, we haven't quite thrown off the name of our ancestors in order to rise above them. Just call me Cao Cao from now on, okay? And I have to ask, how's Arthur doing?"

Le Fay took another small step back so that Riptide could protect her better. "He's doing well. Your concern i-is appreciated."

Cao Cao smiled wanly, then, he looked at me. "And you? Another member of the Grigori, obviously. Care to introduce yourself?"

"No."

My quick retort seemed to surprise him. He blinked. "I see. Tell me, are you two the only ones the Grigori sent here?"

I watched both him and Georg carefully. Though I tried to suppress it, the _Nekhbet_ part of me focused on their outlines.

Georg had an aura of shining blue. Cao Cao barely had an aura at all.

What really caught my attention, though, was the spear. Oh gods, that spear.

 _By the pharaohs . . . what_ is _that?_ Nekhbet's anxious voice didn't help calm me down.

The spear made my head pound as I tried to understand just what in Hades I was looking at. Its aura burned a piercing white. The purest white I'd ever seen. And despite that, the white aura was constrained, just taking up the space directly around the spear.

My mouth went dry. Nobody and nothing I'd met before could match the spear in terms of . . . whatever it was that I saw and felt.

"Another non-response?" Cao Cao sighed. "Hey, guy-who-caught-the-spear, can you at least tell me if you're human? That should be easy enough."

I blinked hard, shutting out _Nekhbet Vision_ , and gripped my sword with both hands. "Yeah, I'm human. How'd you know we were part of the Grigori?"

"As you probably guessed, the reason we knew you were part of the Grigori is that this was something of a trap," Cao Cao said flippantly. "When we killed the vampire coven in the hills just across the river, we knew they'd called out to their close allies for help. After all, they always do that, don't they Georg?"

"Considering it's their best hope for survival, yes, they always do that." Georg nodded.

"Yes," Cao Cao tapped the spear on his shoulder again. "And as we'd done a bit of research on this coven, we knew they worked closely with the Grigori for purposes of finding Sacred Gear wielders. So we prepared for reinforcements, hoping to test our powers on more than just lesser vampires. A higher vampire, for example, or perhaps even a fabled Caricature of Ignobility, the likes of which only come once every four generations. Indeed, becoming a Caricature of Ignobility is the greatest evolution a vampire can achieve, and would have proven more than enough entertainment if old rumors are to be believed."

 _But only you two might be a little disappointing_ , he muttered off-handedly. With that, he swung the spear around and pointed it at us.

I felt cold. That thing was no joke. I really, _really_ didn't want to find out exactly why I couldn't get over the apprehension building in my body. But that wasn't my call to make.

"You see," he smiled fearlessly, "we were hoping to receive Slash Dog, Tobio Ikuse. He's a human as well, from what I hear, and in possession of the Canis Lykaon. No doubt, he would make a good addition to our group."

"Group?"

Le Fay answered my question. "The Hero Faction. Cao Cao is the de facto leader, and Georg is his right hand."

If that was the case, then did that mean Le Fay and Arthur were part of the Hero Faction once? Cao Cao made it sound that way, at least.

"So you killed the vampires we were supposed to help?" I asked.

"Pretty much," Cao Cao shrugged.

"Why?"

Cao Cao lowered his spear. "Because we were asked to. Those vampires have been scouring the immediate area for several months now. Livestock and people alike have been taken for their blood. Not many, mind you, but enough to justify the eradication of those monsters." He shook his head. "My bad. I say that as if there's an alternative, regarding when they don't attack people. No, monsters are monsters, and so they deserve nothing more than to be culled by humans. And there it is. The 'why'."

 _"Monsters are monsters."_ Cao Cao's words may once have been how I saw the world. As a demigod, I've been attacked by monsters galore, as if it were going out of style.

But Tyson, my brother, was a Cyclops. He may have looked like a monster and been labeled like that by others, but that still didn't stop him from being a hero in more ways than one.

Mrs. O'Leary, my dog, was a hellhound. Monster? Yes. Did I still love her? Yes.

So even though I'd never met these vampires, I wouldn't take Cao Cao's word. He seemed like a prejudiced guy, anyway. Maybe we were similar in that way at one point.

Le Fay grabbed hold of my sleeve. "We have to run."

I frowned. "I don't think they'll let us."

"Yes, Georg created a new dimension for us. But if you can give me four . . . maybe five minutes, I can break through! It's not very strong."

Five minutes? Well, if I could keep them talking, that wouldn't be hard.

"I think the time for explanations and pleasantries are over," Cao Cao said. "We came to fight. Le Fay, don't take this the wrong way, but you have to die. People doubt us in keeping stability within the faction after you and your brother left. It's for the best that you be put down."

And there went my strategy. I prepared myself. "Hey, pal, if you want to even breathe in her general direction," my jaw tightened, and my eyes grew sharp, "you'll have to take me down first."

 _How will we be crushing him? Start with my power immediately or test the waters?_ Nekhbet asked.

I rolled my eyes at the god and told her, _Let's work with your power, here. Don't know what this guy can do._

 _Good choice._

My blood tingled as godly energy flowed through it.

Cao Cao raised an eyebrow. "I see. Take you down, then kill the girl? Simple enough." He grinned. "Good! Now, I can't use my spear at its fullest without risking destroying this dimension, but perhaps my general proficiency should be enough to deal with you."

Taking a step, I was stopped by Le Fay. "Be careful. Please, please be careful. That spear of his is—the most powerful Longinus. The True Longinus. The Spear of Destiny. It was the spear that pierced the side of Jesus of Nazareth. Consecrated by the blood of that man—one of the world's greatest known martyrs, please, please, please be careful!"

I nodded. "Sounds like fun."

"I—I don't want you to die for me, Percy." Her finger clawed into the fabric of my shirt. "If you can't handle it, please just _run_. Being the top Longinus, it has the capability to destroy the world."

The muscles in my neck tightened. It'd be a cold day in Tartarus before I left her to fend for herself. "Thing is, Le Fay, I can handle anything."

Cao Cao glanced at his buddy. "Georg, this will be between this man and me. Don't interfere."

"If that's what you want."

Cao Cao turned to me. "Let's take this to the street. A cafe just doesn't make for good combat."

* * *

 **Part III**

* * *

The sky was purple.

No, sorry, that's a bit misleading. I should say that the sky was covered by the same purple mist I'd seen Georg emerge from. Everything else was relatively the same, though since there wasn't much sun coming through the mist, the area looked gray and washed out.

"Le Fay said she can get you out in four—maybe five—minutes, right?" Cao Cao stood further down the road, splitting lanes with his legs.

"Eavesdropping isn't very heroic," I said.

There weren't any cars or people around us. Short, weathered utility poles rose on either side of the street, holding a web of power lines above the sidewalk and street proper. The buildings in the area were made of stone and painted all sorts of colorful shades: yellow, salmon, green, blue. So many signs were in English as well as Romanian.

"Anything to win," he said with a quaint smile. "But regardless, do you think you can last four minutes against the True Longinus? Or rather, do you think you can fight me for that long?"

Riptide came up. "While I'd rather not find out, the only way we'll know is by testing it. I'm all for the scientific method."

"You won't stall? I'm willing to answer a few more questions before we start."

"Oh, uh . . ." I lowered my sword a little. " _Bee Movie_ was kind of an underrated masterpiece, right?"

Cao Cao opened his mouth. Then, he came at me. The True Longinus made to cut through my chest, but I parried.

He backed up and smirked.

I made a face. "Cheap shots aren't very heroic, either."

"Anything to win," he repeated.

"Yeah, _real heroic_ ," I said, bringing my sword up to my chest.

And without another word, we started the battle in earnest.

The next time he attacked, I was better prepared, saw him coming. I met his charge but was quickly pushed back by the reach of his spear. He twirled it around his shoulders and jabbed a few times. The blade came inches from my face, shining silver, a radiant sort of power echoing with each of his thrusts. Most of his attacks came for my upper body, which gave me an easier time defending with just my sword. Really, my mind went on autopilot.

In response, Cao Cao took the chance to choke down on the haft and keep me further at bay. He hopped back and pointed the spearhead at me.

 _SCHLINK!_

The spear extended almost faster than I could react. I knocked it away with Riptide, but by the time I was ready to use his spear's unwieldy length against him, the True Longinus had already reverted back to its standard form.

Cao Cao angled the flat end of his spear so that it pointed at the ground.

It extended again, but instead of the front part, this time the back grew longer so that the butt slammed into the ground and launched Cao Cao up.

He flipped through the air, and the spear's butt extended again, pushing off a nearby utility pole at good forty-five-degree angle, shooting him like a rocket right at me.

With a flick, he swung his spear down like an axe just as I brought Riptide up in an arc. Our weapons crashed together, a bloom of orange sparks briefly coming to life from the grinding contact. Cao Cao, in that short moment, transferred his momentum to frontflip above me, using my sword as leverage as he pushed with his arms. He landed atop the cafe's roof readily, smirking at me still on the ground.

I ran and jumped, cool wind rushing against my face. His eyes widened as I raced to his position, Riptide poised to impale his stomach. It wasn't unheard of for demigods to jump ten feet off the ground, but with Nekhbet's power racing through my blood, I could do so much more than normal.

The True Longinus came between us, its shaft used as a shield to deflect my stab. Momentum forced me to plow into Cao Cao, despite my attack's failure, and we tumbled onto the next rooftop, a tangle of limbs and metal until we rolled to our feet at the same time. Our separation didn't last long, and the distance between us wasn't huge.

"Hah!" Cao Cao went onto a blindingly fast offensive. It was like fighting Hyperion all over again. Back then, I'd been standing on water and had taken the mark of Achilles, which had been the pinnacle of my power for a long time.

Riptide zipped through the air in front of us for each stab, swing, and strike that he launched. I pirouetted, stepped back, slid to either side, hopped, skipped, jumped—basically I took the best course of action for every scenario which seemed to play out in our skirmish.

I probably looked like a breakdancer on a caffeine high.

"Impressive!" Cao Cao laughed as he whirled his spear around like a baton. It extended and retracted at seemingly random intervals in the moment, but as the next part of his barrage came, the reasoning for its changes became clear. He was constantly throwing me off balance, forcing me to make huge, exaggerated movements to correct any cracks in my defense he'd opened.

The air around us shrieked each time our weapons sliced through it. Neither of us had landed a good hit yet.

 _What incredible technique,_ Nekhbet commented. _He's certainly worked hard to match a natural prodigy such as yourself. Or perhaps he is also the product of favorable odds._

I agreed with her. Cao Cao might even have been able to give Kronos a hard time if I just looked at their weapon proficiency and not other factors.

With a short sweep, the spear released a crescent of shining white energy. It hit me dead center and knocked me off the roof.

My body ached as I tumbled to a stop on the street.

 _More power?_ Nekbet asked smugly.

"If you don't mind," I nodded. Liquid lightning streaked through my veins as I grabbed hold of the tumultuous ocean inside of me.

Cao Cao stepped to the edge of the building's roof and stared down at me. "What happened? Lose your desire to fight?"

"Just changing gears," I said, jumping to stand again. Beneath my feet, I felt a ton of water constricted by the walls of a pipe. "A little thirsty. How about you?"

"I'm doing fine."

There was a tug at my gut. "Really? Well, how about I get you a drink anyway?"

The manholes around us shot into the air as sewer water erupted onto the scene. I'd just ruined my appetite, but given the situation, it was justified. I directed the water toward Cao Cao, who was forced to jump from the roof, his spear extending to launch him toward me.

But instead of falling to the street, the front half extended and lodged itself in a utility pole. Cao Cao reeled himself to the pole like some kind of deranged Spider-Man.

I had to admit, he looked pretty darn cool shooting through the air like that.

 _Focus, please, you dolt._ The vulture gave me an earful.

I sighed. _So uncivilized._

Although the water smelled awful and had some pieces of questionable debris in it, I could still exert my control perfectly fine. Heaving my arm around, I fired a powerful spray at Cao Cao, who dropped from the pole.

He landed in a crouch, then rushed at me while I was bringing myself back to a defensive position.

Just when I got Riptide into a better position, he planted his feet, halting his dash, and jumped away, backflipping too far for me to reach. I was about to capitalize on his move, but the True Longinus stopped me.

"Let's see if you can handle ten percent of the ultimate Longinus' power!" Cao Cao jabbed forward with the spear.

A bullet of the purest energy I'd ever seen shot at me.

I reacted appropriately, with Riptide cutting the projectile right down the middle—causing it to explode not even a foot from my face.

Time felt to have slowed down as the energy rippled outward, destroying the ground beneath me and sending a ring of water splashing everywhere.

Then, all too suddenly, time went back to normal.

I flew down the street, splashing through the inch deep water as I tumbled over hard, unyielding asphalt.

My vision was a mess of nothing coherent.

My stomach went all Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots on me.

The Earth went flat, and gravity said, _See ya later, sucker!_

Gravity, if you couldn't tell, can be pretty rude at the worst times.

Nekhbet had summoned a thin avatar around me just before the bullet hit Riptide, absorbing the direct explosion, though shattering in the process. Without the avatar to protect me, my skin was subject to the effects of road rash as I skid across the street.

When I finally came to a stop thanks to a friendly wrought iron gate, blood covered a lot of my arms and even parts of my legs. My nice trousers were a bit shredded.

I spat out a glob of blood and stood up.

Tilting my head, the base of my neck popped, and I sighed with a shudder. A hundred yards away, Cao Cao waited with his spear propped against his shoulder.

"New plan: don't fight the guy head on," I muttered, my tongue awash with the flavor of pennies. "That spear is scary."

I took stock.

Some of the manhole covers had landed in the street again, and an idea came to mind—not even a crazy one, though I did have to admit the chances of pulling it off felt pretty darn low. Either way, I would really have to think outside the box if I wanted to come away from this fight with a win.

See, I was pretty sure my strength outclassed his. Call it battle sense or whatever, but something told me that one good hit was all it would take to bring this guy down.

Unfortunately, the True Longinus seriously scared me. Fighting him head-on was a no-go. Not while I didn't know what else that lance could do. So I pulled an Annabeth and came up with a half-decent strategy.

Half-decent according to who, you ask? According to me.

One deep breath later saw me sprinting down the street, barrelling toward Cao Cao like a freight train. I left myself open.

He took the bait. Hook, line, and— _SCHLINK!_

The spearhead raced for my heart. When it came a few yards away, Nekhbet's power surged back into my body. I dropped to my knees and slid under the blade, back bent as I watched the True Longinus passed just a few inches above my nose.

The water beneath kept propelling me forward. I bucked one leg and hopped to the side, hands closing around a fallen manhole cover.

Now, don't let their appearance fool you, manhole covers are heavy. The one I picked up must have been about 300 pounds. (Sorry, since it's Romania, I guess I should say about 130 kilograms?)

Normal humans would have had trouble lifting something like that, let alone throwing it like I planned to do. But, hey, what can I say? Being a demigod had its perks.

Twisting around, I whipped the cover forward like a frisbee. It shot through the air, a bullet of circular iron, heavy enough to crush a human skull by simply tipping over from its side. And though I wanted to watch it fly, my legs didn't stop pushing and my arms didn't stop pumping, my stride kept at a reasonable pace.

I did, however, see Cao Cao's eyes widen. The spear retracted.

He didn't react quite quick enough. The spear's shaft stopped the cover from hitting him square in the chest, sure, but it was too narrow a defense to completely halt my spinning missile.

And so, instead of his sternum, the cover nicked the side of his spear and veered a little off course.

I could practically hear the crunch of his shoulder being crushed when the manhole connected. Not pretty.

Cao Cao was yanked clean off his feet, a spin added to his fall because of the cover's trajectory. But as fast as he'd gone down, he pushed himself right on up, spear pointing straight at me, a white glow on the blade.

No way was I going to let him do _that_ again.

There was still a lot of water on the street, and I decided to give Cao Cao a turn on my newfangled Slip 'N Slide. I thrust my hand out. Every last drop of water under his feet rushed toward me, moving like a small river along the street. He lost balance and fell onto his back. Of course, I didn't expect him to stay down for long.

In our brief battle, I'd already gotten the impression that Cao Cao was no slouch. And he quickly proved me right by hopping to his feet not even two seconds after he'd fallen. But those two seconds were all I'd needed to get in close.

"GRK!" Cao Cao grunted as I grabbed the shaft of his spear and threw him against the side of a building. Even though he recovered fast, his left arm moved sluggishly as he tried to impale me.

I twisted my sword around and knocked the True Longinus aside, then grabbed the haft again, just below where Cao Cao's hands were positioned.

Cao Cao reacted immediately, almost like he'd anticipated me doing that. His leg shot forward and slammed into my hip.

The sudden movement had made me act instinctively. I'd thrust Riptide to pierce his shoulder, but when his foot connected with my waist, the edge of celestial bronze instead shifted with the direction of my body and soared for his jugular.

Cao Cao's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just done. He tried backing away but bumped into the building's wall.

Panic settled on his face.

Then, it evaporated, replaced by bewilderment as Riptide passed right through the side of his neck without so much as giving him a papercut. It did, however, gouge a line into the stone wall behind him.

Of course. I'd never asked, but this just solidified any doubts I'd had. Cao Cao, despite his immense combat prowess, was just a human with a scary toothpick.

He seemed to relax when he realized he hadn't just been decapitated—and boy, what a mistake that was.

My hand still gripped his spear. Funny how he'd forgotten as much.

I twisted, planting my foot when I turned around, my triceps flexing as I hauled Cao Cao above me by using his spear as leverage. Just a second later, his back connected with the cement sidewalk.

He made a sound: _Ugh-kha-keh!_

The True Longinus glowed, and it was at about that time I noticed he'd aimed the blade for me without my knowledge.

"That's about par for the cour—"

A brilliant blast of light sent me crashing through a utility pole, cutting off my commentary.

The explosion hadn't had the same power as before. Nekhbet's purple energy crinkled, cracked, and flickered, but held up despite the force applied to it.

I spun in the air and caught myself in a crouch, kicking up water as I slid down the street, hands and feet slicing through the sewage.

We were a reasonable distance apart now. The mist swirled around us lethargically. Down the way, I saw Cao Cao tense. It was the barest of movements, but it still happened, and following the drawing of his muscles, I felt a chill spread throughout my body.

"Cao Cao, we got a call," Georg said. The wannabe cultist stood atop a nearby cellular store. "Leonardo collapsed after achieving his Balance Breaker. Jeanne isn't sure what happened, but she sounded like they needed our knowledge on Longinus-tier Sacred Gears."

"What? So we have to run off now, of all times?" Cao Cao narrowed his eyes. "But maybe that's for the best." He glanced at me. "I'm surprised. You're an incredible fighter. A hydrokinetic with impressive swordsmanship. Some people might say your style is boorish, but they would be missing the point, right? You don't fight with a proper technique for a reason. Only a true master of their craft would have the gall to incorporate such idiosyncratic and novel movements when fighting against the True Longinus. Well, that, or a complete fool. But your quick wits prove to me you aren't a lucky buffoon."

"You'll make me blush from all that praise," I said blandly. "Do you want me to swoon?"

He turned away with a vindictive smirk. "We'll meet again, nameless human. And next time, I plan on using my Balance Breaker to see if you're worth leaving alive."

"You're just gonna run? Seriously?" I asked. Maybe I shouldn't have opened my mouth to begin, but we'd just had a pretty vicious battle. I was more than a little put out that he would just up and walk away.

Sue me for wanting some kind of catharsis after all that had happened.

Cao Cao stopped halfway through his stride. "Yes. It's your win today, stranger. I don't know what's wrong with your sword, but if you'd been holding a normal one, I'd be dead." A round of boisterous laughter shot from his mouth, a thin finger drawing across the side of his neck where Riptide passed. "I'll never forget that. And I also won't ever take you lightly again. Next time . . . well, I'm sure you've got the picture."

I frowned. "What was the point?"

"The point?" Cao Cao hummed. "At first, it was to kill the girl. We don't want her or her brother standing as a bastion for those who think they can defect or oppose us. When you stepped in, the point became to have you taste what the Hero Faction stands for. As a human, you must understand, right?"

"Understand what?"

"The thing that makes us unique. The reason why the God from the Bible decided to give _us_ Sacred Gears."

Cao Cao whipped his spear around, its butt slammed into the ground. "Our deprivation, our drive, and our development. We, who are born smart enough to understand the weakness we carry. We, who are able to bring ourselves to the brink for the sake of the future. We, who continue to reach heights unforeseeable by even the divine."

"This is what the Hero Faction desires to show the world. Humanity's deprivation, drive, and development. Once we become strong enough, we'll destroy the supernatural world. We'll get rid of the evil that would bring humans misfortune and suffering." Cao Cao grinned. " _That's_ the point. Our fight has shown me a lot about you. I would like to think you carry all three of our tenets within your soul."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "You've got a lot of nerve comparing us. I don't think I want to associate with people who go around trying to kill little girls."

"Is that so?" He paused, smile becoming a little less threatening. "Hey, nameless stranger, you really should consider ditching those guys in the Grigori to join us. For the sake of humanity. For the good of the world. We're heroes, you know? You can be a hero too."

What? Had he really just asked me that? I didn't even need time to think about it. This guy wasn't a frickin' hero. Not in my book, at least. "Didn't you just hear me? No. I'll pass, buddy. Being a hero is overrated anyway. Too much work. Everybody starts expecting you to clean up after their messes. You have to stop the apocalypse every other year. No thanks. Not going through that again."

"Hm? Ah, so be it. Get stronger then, stranger."

His grin faded as Georg stepped closer to him and wrapped their bodies in purple mist. Before they left, he called out, "Hey, stranger, do you know my ancestor, the original Cao Cao of China?"

I shrugged. "Never heard of him."

"Is that so? Good. Don't bother looking him up, then. I'd like to fight you without that shadow looming over me, all right?"

The mist around me started to swirl. Like a cyclone, it swept through the street and converged on the spot they had been standing.

I blinked.

The sun came through again. I could see sunlight splashing against the buildings. Cao Cao and Georg were gone, and I stood on the sidewalk, where pedestrians passed me by with apprehension.

I quickly capped Riptide before anybody could snap a photo and post it on Twitter. I'd already almost risked exposing the supernatural world once before.

A layer of sweat covered my body. I hadn't realized before, but it was hot. It felt like someone had put me in an oversized oven.

Nekhbet sighed. _Please try to recall that you will literally burn if you use too much of my power._

"I knew I was forgetting something," I said, letting the fistful of ocean I'd grabbed go free.

Le Fay sprinted toward me. "You're hurt! Ah, that's no good . . . I'm pretty mediocre when it comes to healing magic."

The scrapes on my body were pretty well along in healing thanks to the sewer water—which was conspicuously gone now, along with all the damage from my fight with Cao Cao.

"Nah, don't worry," I said, showing her the blood on my body was mostly dry, and that I wasn't actually bleeding too much anymore. "Water is pretty much my saving grace."

"A-are you sure?" she flitted around me, checking each spot where my skin had been painted red, tender fingers prodding at the wounds in search of a response. When she was satisfied, a sigh escaped her, though what followed was a pair of watery eyes glowering at me.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"I thought I"—she tried to stifle a cute growl—"told you to be careful. Why did you go and get hurt so much? You could've died! I would've never forgiven you!"

"Uh, sorry?"

Her glare intensified. "You'd better be," she mumbled.

"Yeah, I am. But the bright side? Both of us are alive." I tried to downplay the situation to defuse her anger, adorable as it was.

"Nope! I'm not forgiving you that easily. You have to make it up to me somehow."

I rubbed my neck. "Feels a bit cliche, but if that's what you want then all right."

Le Fay grabbed my hand and led it to rest on top of her head. My fingers ruffled her soft hair. She was smiling at me, an expectant gleam in her eyes combined with the tears that still lingered from earlier.

That was it? Just for me to pat her on the head? Well, to each their own, I suppose. We'd probably been watching too much anime.

Besides, Le Fay had become family, to some extent. She'd said so herself. I would admit the idea was heartwarming.

Nekhbet spoke up, her voice dripping with vitriol potent enough to melt cement. _Don't fool yourself. You don't need these people. To become the best at something you must sever connections with all that would impede you. Power for the sake of power. I won't allow you to make the same mistakes again._

Le Fay was still looking at me. She was waiting.

I told Nekhbet, _It isn't your decision to make_. _It's mine._

My hand glided over Le Fay's hair. Her full, toothy grin almost made me cry again.

No matter how hard and long I tried to lie to myself, it still hurt more than I could ever admit.

"Are you sad?" Le Fay asked, glancing up at me when my hand stopped ruffling her hair. Her eyes still had a tinge of red to their rims, but they didn't shine with tears anymore. Even so, they locked on me with genuine worry.

I wanted to tell her otherwise, but for some reason, my mouth was already curling up at the corners. So I went with that—I smiled at her and said, "Yeah, I'm pretty sad."

"Why?"

"Started thinking too much."

She sounded almost scared to ask. "About what?"

I flipped Riptide around in my free hand, running my thumb over the unassuming body of the pen.

"Did you like fighting him?" She continued with a completely different train of thought.

My lips thinned. "What kind of question is that?"

She shrugged. "It looked like you . . . came to life a little when you were fighting him."

That was odd, I thought. It wouldn't have been the first time, though. Something similar had happened when I defended Manhattan. I'd laughed maniacally while cutting my way through hordes of monsters on the Williamsburg bridge. But back then, I realized as much. This time, I hadn't known.

I went ahead and changed the subject to what we'd been discussing before. "Hey, did I ever tell you about Annabeth?"

Le Fay shook her head, taking my hand along for the ride. "No. Though I know she was your girlfriend."

I smiled. "She was a _lot_ more than just my girlfriend. One of the bravest demigods I ever knew. One heck of a fighter. Probably the best tactician I've met. At first, we kinda didn't get along—old family rivalries and general personality dysfunction—but she saved my life more times than I can count."

"There's gotta be a good story behind that," Le Fay said.

"There is," I nodded. "When we get to headquarters, I'll tell you all about it, from the very start. I don't think she would forgive me if I left her part out in the grand scheme of things."

* * *

 **End Chapter**

* * *

 **A/N: Again, thank you all for the enthusiasm you show every chapter.**


	5. V

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or High School DxD.**

* * *

5\. There's Something Inside You, Just in a Dream, But Will We Ever Meet Again?

* * *

 **Part I**

* * *

"Red is the color of power!" Bikou shouted, giving us all a thumbs up in front of his huge grin. "It has a certain attractiveness that gives you power, you know?"

"Red is the color of passion," Kuroka hung her legs over the side of the sofa she lounged on. "Though, I suppose you can interpret that in a lot of ways, right?"

"Red is the color of rage," Arthur said while resting his arms on his knees. "It burns like a fire, hot and clandestine in the worst situations."

"Red is the color of justice!" Le Fay threw in her own two cents. "It's something that heroes would use to show their determination for the good of the world."

"Red is the color of destruction." Vali crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "Bad omens. Devastation."

Tobio Ikuse, a young man originally from Japan, sat cross-legged on the couch across from Kuroka. This guy, dressed similarly to me in a butler-esque sense, was someone Vali held in high regard as a fighter. Among the top five strongest humans, in fact. Tobio's nickname was "Slash Dog", and he was the wielder of Canis Lykaon, another of the thirteen Longinus.

He held his chin thoughtfully. "I think everybody is right in their assumptions here. I suppose all I could add would be love. Red is the color many people associate with love, right?"

I stared at Riptide as I spun it around between my fingers.

A few days passed after the incident with the Hero Faction in Romania, mostly uneventful.

Le Fay and I kept our words: she helped me learn to cook, and I told her some more about myself. Arthur had been a little shaken when he learned that Cao Cao had targeted his sister, but calmed down after she'd spoken to him privately.

Of course, he thanked me more than enough for keeping Le Fay safe.

Vali was Vali, and since I hadn't found an alternative hobby for him, he spent way too much time listening to me talk about Cao Cao. He'd also decided to fight me twice a day now, which was . . . exhausting.

Azazel, on the other hand, took the situation pretty seriously. Once Le Fay and I told him what happened, he'd locked himself away with Shemhaza, Kokabiel, and Barakiel.

And now, after days of their deliberations, the time was upon us. Azazel had asked us to gather for a short discussion about what we would be doing moving forward. That's how the seven of us—Vali's team plus Tobio Ikuse—had wound up playing a short game to entertain ourselves while we waited for the boss to come in and explain things.

Raising my eyes, I pointed at Kuroka. "Even though it was vague, I'll give you the point for that answer."

Bikou and Le Fay booed me. Kuroka gave us a satisfied smirk. "Well, that brings me up to four points total. Looks like I win, Le Fay."

In response to Kuroka's sing-song voice, Le Fay huffed, crossed her arms, and turned to me with an unsatisfied look. "Mine was good! How could you choose her knowing it was the last round?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to play fair," I defended myself. "I can't start picking favorites."

"Hmph!"

Bikou was quietly laughing at me, Arthur and Tobio were smiling, Kuroka seemed to be content with relaxing, and Vali kept his posture in a lean against the wall.

Le Fay, who was sitting next to me, turned her body away.

I fought the urge to sigh aloud. With a placating smile of my own, I lightly dug my index finger just beneath her ribcage.

She squeaked out a yelp and darted to the other side of the couch, holding the spot I'd prodded defensively. Her eyes had narrowed, but I saw a smile breaking through her weak glare.

"And here I thought taking you on as a culinary apprentice would garner me some respect!" Le Fay said imperiously, sticking her nose in the air and giving me a small sniff of disdain. "Do you want to learn the subtleties of the Kitchen Arts or not?"

"You should give up on him," Kuroka said with a yawn. "He's a lost cause in that department."

I gave Kuroka a flat stare. "I tip too much salt once—once!—and you immediately lose all faith. A guy can't do anything around here without being brutalized."

"Considering it's Le Fay who's teaching you," Bikou shrugged, "we have some high expectations, you know? We hoped she could pass down her knowledge to a suitable heir, but so far, it's been rough."

"You should practice more," Vali said seriously.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You guys . . . _none_ of you know how to cook. At least I'm _trying to learn_. Whenever Le Fay is gone, you all end up eating microwave dinners and instant noodles."

Everybody flinched.

Le Fay's head slowly turned to me, a frozen, unapologetically empty smile on her face. The fingers of her hand slowly closed around my shoulder. "Would you mind repeating that, Percy?"

I saw Bikou and Kuroka share a nervous glance. Arthur's head bowed. Vali scooted further away from us as discreetly as he could. Only Tobio seemed unconcerned, humming as he read from a newspaper.

"Percy."

My eyes trailed away from the others. "Uh, well, when you're not around—"

Bikou made a slicing motion with his hand over his neck: the universal signal to stop right then and there lest I cause some kind of fiery explosion of malice.

I didn't pay attention to him. "These guys don't cook for themselves. They eat instant meals. That's actually part of the reason I asked for your help, actually." I scratched my hair and chuckled awkwardly as Arthur's body slackened.

"I see, I see," Le Fay nodded vacantly. She turned to her brother. "I thought I told you . . . that you needed to eat your proper servings . . . _of everything_."

"There's plenty of broccoli kept in stock," Arthur said after a moment of hesitation. "I certainly get my recommended daily value of fruits, vegetables, and protein."

Her eyes sharpened and pinned him to the place he sat. After a few seconds, Le Fay hopped off the couch. She grabbed me by the hand. "We need to work double time so you're up to snuff. I won't have everybody eating frozen dinners or packaged ramen whenever I have to run an errand."

With that, she hauled me up off the couch, half-dragging me to the door. I asked, "Can we make blue cookies?"

"Today we're making a frittata. If you manage to do it yourself, then yes, you can have your blue cookies."

As I passed them, Bikou and Kuroka gave me hearty salutes, while Arthur smiled in a fashion I might call apologetic. Tobio waved. Vali refused to meet my eye.

These guys . . . I was just their sacrifice, wasn't I?

Just before her hand turned the knob, someone else opened the door from the other side, punting Le Fay back with the wood. I caught her by the shoulders and steadied her as she wobbled.

"Ouch," Le Fay rubbed her face.

Azazel stepped through the doorway and peeked inside. "Sorry about that, Le Fay, I didn't know you were there."

I turned Le Fay around, taking her hands away from her face. A small pink mark had formed on her forehead. It didn't look too serious, but just to be sure I cupped my hand by her eye and ran my thumb over the spot.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

"N-no," she peered up at me. "Not much. It feels a bit hot, though."

I nodded. "That should go away in a little while. It didn't look like you got hit too hard, but better safe than sorry, right? Tell us if it keeps hurting."

Le Fay smiled shakily. "Right. Thanks, Percy."

I smiled at her, then glanced at Azazel, who was giving me an apologetic grin. "I honestly totally forgot you were the one who told us to meet. What took you so long?"

"Last minute argument with Kokabiel and Barakiel." He sounded tired.

"Well, since you're here, can we get this over with?" Vali spoke up from his position against the wall. "You made us wait for over an hour."

"Not like we didn't use that time to catch up and unwind," Bikou crossed his arms behind his head and stretched. "You can admit the game was fun, Vali, even though you came in dead last."

Tobio hid a chuckle by coughing, but Vali caught it and shot him a short, scathing glare.

Kuroka's legs swayed over the arm of the couch, uncovered from the middle of her thighs down. Her sandals had been kicked off at some point and lay by the couch's furthest foot. "Careful, Bikou. You know how competitive dragons can be. Don't give Vali an excuse to beat you down next time you meet in the gym."

Bikou shrugged her words off. "He's welcome to do so. I still have a lot of ground to make up if I want to match First Gen Sun Wukong."

Grazing by me, Azazel heaved himself onto a nearby recliner. "I agree with you, Vali. Let's get this over with. I've spent too much time already busting my brain over this instead of something more productive."

"You mean playing around with your pet project?" Tobio asked. "How _is_ the Sacred Gear coming along, by the way? Make any progress?"

"I've got an official name for it," Azazel said proudly. "The Down Fall Dragon Spear."

"Wait, that's it?" I scratched my chin. "What've you been doing this whole time?"

He scoffed. "You think it's easy, kid? I'd like to see you replicate a Sacred Gear. And besides, I've been trying to deal with this whole 'Hero Faction' dilemma."

"Which is the point of this conversation," Arthur reminded us.

Azazel gave us a flippant twist of his wrist. "Right, right, I'll get on with it. By this point, you guys know about the Hero Faction thanks to inside reports from Arthur and Le Fay here. We know about their apparent leader in Cao Cao, the wielder of the Spear of Destiny. We know about Georg, possessor of Dimension Lost. And we know a little about Leonardo, possessor of Annihilation Maker."

He stopped and took a breath. "Three of the most powerful Sacred Gears are in the hands of people who would like to see the supernatural world crumble. These guys, if they're given a chance to grow, can potentially destroy the world. I don't think anybody here wants that to happen, right?"

We all shook our heads. Azazel snapped his fingers. "Exactly. And while you may want to think of me as a lazy guy, I'm a lazy guy who enjoys his peace. Initially, I was hoping we could deal with the Hero Faction quickly and permanently."

My eyebrow went up. Had he just admitted to wanting to kill those guys?

"Unfortunately for all of us," Azazel yawned, "we don't know where they are. No doubt, Georg is using Dimension Lost to keep whatever base they've got nice and hidden. So that's out."

Tobio spoke up, "We know they're targeting supernatural forces. Chances are they'll attack another group of vampires, werewolves, fairies, what-have-you, that the Grigori employs."

"Wanna catch them in the act?" Kuroka closed her eyes. "Not a bad plan. Maybe we can take them by surprise."

"Assuming they aren't going to be more cautious because of the meeting between Percy and Cao Cao," Vali said. He frowned. "If they were smart, they'd lay low for a while and wait for the heat to wear off."

"But that's also assuming they're afraid of getting caught or killed," Arthur steepled his fingers. "Cao Cao is a very effective orator. He manipulates people easily. It's almost second nature to him. The people that follow him would do so to the death."

I felt Le Fay's hand latch onto my side. "They really do think what they're doing is okay. To them, human lives have more value than any other."

"Aren't they all humans, though?" I asked. "If they would die for Cao Cao, isn't that kind of, like, against what they stand for?"

"They're all a little fanatical," Arthur conceded, "but that doesn't mean they would throw away lives for absolutely no reason. Cao Cao is actually quite smart. There's usually a method behind what we might perceive as madness."

"Regardless of the Hero Faction's internal policies, we have to take them as a highly dangerous group." The look on Azazel's face made me think he wasn't going to enjoy saying what came next. "We've already contacted our affiliates in the human world. Our operations are being frozen for the foreseeable future."

Vali glanced over. "What operations?"

Azazel sighed. "Any that involve searching for Sacred Gear possessors. It looks like we have competition in that regard. As it stands, I don't think we have anybody ready to face the True Longinus."

"That's—" Vali tried to argue, but Azazel cut him off with a brusque interruption.

"As one of the Holy Relics, that spear can bring down even the strongest Devils. You and Kuroka wouldn't stand a chance. There aren't many out there who could take on the True Longinus' ultimate ability."

I steered Le Fay to the nearest sofa. "Balance Breaker, right? Cao Cao told me he would use it if we fought again. Should I be worried?"

"True Longinus Götterdämmerung. But that's not what I meant. While the Balance Breaker is dangerous, I was talking about the real kicker. Truth Idea."

"Very ominous."

"Truth Idea takes and combines the will of God from the Bible and the ambition of the current wielder of True Longinus, then . . . well, it more or less performs a miracle depending on the situation. That's the best way I can explain it."

We all looked between one another. Clearly, none of us were really aware of the specifics, though we all probably understood the implications of something like that.

Still, I wondered what seeing a miracle would be like.

Then again, I'd watched Typhon being taken down only a minute or two before he could destroy Olympus and ruin civilization. That probably counted.

"Anyway, the point is that none of you are ready to take on something like that quite yet." Azazel had no shame saying that right to our faces. "Hell, even I wouldn't want to face the True Longinus. So don't feel too bad."

"Then what're we supposed to do?" Bikou was obviously irritated. "You can't have us just sit around and waste time while they get stronger."

"And that's not part of the plan," Azazel rebuked. "We all have areas to improve on, right? Tobio and Vali are the most obvious since their Sacred Gears can continue to evolve and grow. Bikou, Kuroka, you two should keep practicing senjutsu. Le Fay, we still have a huge collection of books pertaining to all types of magic, so feel free to browse for your own benefit."

He pointed at Arthur and I. "You two, I think, are gonna be the most troublesome to pin down. Arthur, as a human without talent for magic, doesn't have many options except to keep fighting, learn new techniques, and the likes."

"As I've always done," Arthur nodded. He didn't look upset at how Azazel described him.

"Percy, on the other hand, has the potential to learn senjutsu. But progress has been painfully slow, right Kuroka?"

"Unfortunately, you're right on that account, Governor." Kuroka sighed. "I don't know if we're close to a breakthrough or not, but we shouldn't count on anything miraculous happening before we get into some serious action, you know?"

Azazel crossed his legs and arms at the same time. "Percy, you'll just have to keep doing what you're doing, then."

 _Jackson._

I turned my attention inward to speak with Nekhbet. _What's up? You sound like you just drank lemon juice._

The glare she sent gave me goosebumps. _How is it that you can make me regret ever merging with you just by opening your mouth?_

 _Years of practice. What's on your mind?_

 _I've been giving the subject some thought, and I think it's inside the realm of possibility for you to channel the divine magic within me to draw upon some form of the Divine Words, thus giving you the honorary title of a magician._

I remembered when Setne had used those kinds of words on me. It had been like a curse, making me fall every time I tried to get up. Normally, that kind of thing would be great for a prank video, but I hadn't been laughing given the situation.

And of course, I couldn't forget Carter using Divine Words to cut off Setne's hand. That had been . . . brutal. Awesome (because I didn't like Setne), but brutal all the same.

 _So I can go around cutting people's hands off and making them fall over? Nice._

I could almost _feel_ Nekhbet slapping me with her wings. _You, without a doubt, are the worst host I've ever been inside of. And I've been inside animals and elderly women. But you—you're something else, Jackson. I mean that wholeheartedly._

 _Love you too, Nekh._

 _I swear I'll eat you one day._

"So that's it?" Vali asked. Everybody's head turned toward him. "We're going to stay out of their way—cower just because they have a few powerful Sacred Gears on their side?"

"There's nothing else we can do." Azazel scratched his chin. "Nothing reasonable, at least. Now, if I was confident the Hero Faction was working alone, I might have been inclined to act more boldly. But as it stands, we may have to look at them like a group bordering on terrorism backed by some kind of religious authority."

"Any idea of who might be supporting them?" Bikou asked with a glance sent at Arthur.

For his part, Arthur just shook his head. "They never discussed anything like that to us. That kind of information would probably have been shared only between Cao Cao and Georg."

"Hoh, I guess that makes sense," Bikou said. "Considering what they're trying to sell their group members, it'd look bad if they got help from some religion."

It did sound pretty hypocritical. But, I mean, it's not like people didn't do hypocritical things to get their way. Gaea and Tartarus, for example, seemed to favor the Giants over the Titans, but in order for the Giants to get out of the Tartarus and back to Earth, they'd enlisted the help of Hyperion and Krios to guard the Doors of Death.

And going back a bit further, I figured Luke had wanted to help Kronos rise not only to get payback on the Olympians but also to improve the situation of half-bloods as a whole.

Unfortunately, a lot of good half-bloods—too many of my friends—had died because of that. So while I understood where he was coming from, I couldn't, in my right mind, actually agree with what Luke did. His heart might have been in a decent place, but the methods were disgusting nonetheless.

"In my opinion, which I know you all value dearly, I can think of a few people that might benefit from all this. But concerning a collective pantheon, the first and foremost would be those from the Hindu religion."

Tobio coughed into his elbow. "You think Mount Meru has something to do with this?"

"Specifically, I think we can assume Svarga."

"Indra, then."

"Well, considering Śakra rules over Svarga . . ."

"You _could_ just come out and tell us without the shrouded intent."

"Giving you all the answers won't help in the long run." Azazel excused himself from just talking to Tobio and looked at the rest of us. "If Śakra really _is_ backing the Hero Faction, we'd have a big problem on our hands. Of course, they'll just deny any accusations we throw at them, and nobody wants Mount Meru as an enemy, so even if we pinned acts of terrorism on them, no action would be taken unless everyone else got riled up enough to jointly try and contain Śakra's ambition."

With Le Fay sitting next to me, I leaned over and asked her, "Can you fill me in on what we're talking about?"

She nodded. "Indra is the ruler of the Hindu pantheon right now. He's also called Śakra. Mount Meru is the main base of operations for the Hindu pantheon. As it stands, Indra is one of the most powerful deities in the world; among the top ten, no doubt. The Buddhas, Devas, and Asuras of Mount Meru make for quite the scary collection of divinities. No other group around the world can match their fighting force alone."

"But if the other religions teamed up?"

"Well, there's no guarantee, but even gods have their limits, and fighting wave after wave of powerful opponents would cripple any faction." Le Fay tilted her head back until it went over the back of the couch.

I tried to imagine a bunch of gods duking it out like that.

My brain started hurting, though, so I switched to more peaceful thoughts.

"Anyway, that's all I had for us tonight, team." Azazel got up, smiling all the while. "I know you lot are gonna be feeling restless without work, but don't worry, we here at the Grigori are dedicated to bringing out the best in each one of you." He spread his arms wide as if he wanted to hug us. "It's why we took you losers in, after all!"

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

A week went by without incident. I mean, that's no new record or anything, but I still think a small celebration would've been sweet.

Sure, I kept fighting against Vali, Bikou, and Arthur every day, but that was all in good fun. It kept us busy. I also helped Le Fay around the kitchen more often, although I would say my food was just a notch above "absolute garbage-fire" and a few notches below "only eat if literally starving".

But hey, that's a win in my book. Truth be told, I wasn't looking to become the next Gordon Ramsay, Auguste Gusteau, or Sally Jackson. Those people were above my level, and I doubted I'd ever have the guts and grit to reach them. But that was fine by me. As long as it was edible, then I'd be fine. I didn't need five-star cuisine every meal.

Still, I looked forward to the day when I could serve my friends a meal and they wouldn't instinctively give it a not-so-discreet sniff to make sure I wasn't about to unintentionally poison them. The nerve of some people.

"Percy!"

A splash of water slapped me right across the face. The thoughts I'd been working so hard to organize fluttered away like a flock of seagulls.

To my left, Le Fay whipped her hand around again and sent more water at me.

I let the rising wave smack my chest. "Was that necessary?" I asked her.

She pouted. "Well, you were totally spacing out on me! I kept asking if you wanted to go on the Snappin' Coyote again, but you've barely moved for a minute."

A few kids parted around her, laughing as they tried to wrestle with one another in the water.

Maybe I should explain. See, with the Grigori pulling back on trying to find, monitor, and recruit Sacred Gear users from around the world, Vali's team had been pretty much benched for a full week. And let me tell you, those guys get cabin fever faster than a half-blood does, which is impressive.

And after a four-way brawl between Vali, Kuroka, Arthur, and myself had destroyed the entire gym and a few blocks in the living quarters, Azazel figured we needed a way to cool off.

Which, I suppose, is why he bought us a short stay at some high-end resort in Pennsylvania, fit with one of the biggest indoor waterparks anywhere across the States.

I won't lie and say I understood his logic. We were a powder keg ready to blow, and he just decided to put us in a place with tons of unknowing civilians. It seemed a bit negligent to me.

Then again, he didn't pay me to think about these things. If he wanted to endanger random people's lives, I'd have to do my best to make sure everybody kept their heads screwed on properly.

"You wanna go on that ride _again_?" I shook my head at Le Fay. We were drifting along in one of those slow-moving artificial rivers. The temperature inside the waterpark was probably around eighty degrees, which definitely beat the thirty that froze my nose hairs outside.

"Absolutely." She nodded resolutely. "Plus we still have to do the Sidewinder Skate, Jackal Cabal, and Jaguar Juggle. Then we go mini golfing! It's all on the itinerary. You did read that, didn't you?"

Penemue, the person Azazel had chosen to be our chaperone, floated toward us in an inflatable river tube. Her long hair had been tied back, and even though we were inside, she was wearing a straw hat along with sunglasses. She wore a purple two-piece swimsuit that complimented her hair very nicely.

Le Fay and I were also in swimwear, which was natural considering we were, in fact, swimming.

"She's right, you know?" Penemue told me. She peered over the rim of her sunglasses. "You guys have another hour to kill before we're supposed to do the mini golf thing. Enjoy the rides, pick up some cute girls, live a little; we're here to relax and unwind."

Le Fay grinned at me. "See?"

Penemue winked. "Go have some fun, kiddo. What's the phrase going around with the young people today? Y.O.F.R.O.?"

"No." I wiped the water from my eyes. "That sounds like a frozen yogurt company."

"Ah, well, close enough, I'm sure." Penemue pushed off a nearby wall and got ahead of us. "This vacation is just what I needed. If you guys haven't already, try the indoor spa pools. Man, that atmosphere is to die for. Not many kids your age, though, so it probably isn't the best for chasing skirts. Unless you like them with some experience under their belts."

Le Fay waved as our chaperone almost clonked a ten-year-old with her inner tube.

Shaking my head, I watched her float around the next corner. "What's with that slang?"

"I tried to tell her earlier," Le Fay giggled. "Guess she still didn't get it."

"Yeah, but nobody says Y.O.L.O. anymore," I pointed out. "At least, nobody cool."

"Do you think you're cooler than me?" she asked.

I made a weighing motion with my hands. "I mean, I can't say anything that might incriminate me, so . . ."

Le Fay splashed more water in my face, and I laughed as we went around the river.

* * *

 **Part III**

* * *

The course for mini golf was jungle themed. I had nothing against jungles, but Vali said he didn't want to play. Not sure if he just had a healthy fear of trees or if he thought the game was beneath him, but he excused himself despite everyone else trying to rope him into playing.

Bikou, Kuroka, and I all lowly booed at him as he shook his head and walked away.

Everybody was wearing much more casual clothing. It was weird seeing the group like that. Even Vali had been convinced to wear some tropical swim trunks and a sleeveless shirt. (Which kind of freaked me out, to be honest.)

Still, I jogged after him and grabbed his arm before he could leave the entrance to the jungle golf attraction. "Hey, c'mon, man. Take it easy. We all deserve to kick back. It's just harmless fun. Play a game with us."

Vali turned his head to glance at me. "We should be working to get stronger. You admitted the True Longinus would have destroyed you if it Cao Cao had used more than just ten percent of its power."

"Yeah," I nodded shamelessly. After all, it was true. The True Longinus was dangerous. "But we've been working hard this past week."

"And do you think you've gotten any stronger in that time?" he asked.

Stronger? No, I don't think I'd become any more powerful. I'd been spending more time trying to filter Nekhbet's magic so I could speak Egyptian Divine Words.

I won't lie, the idea of casting spells kind of excited me. After she'd gotten the seed stuck in my head, Nekhbet went on to explain all the useful little things spells could do. There were plenty to choose from, too, which meant I was well on my way to becoming something of a magician myself.

The downside? I hadn't _quite_ been able to cast a spell yet. Don't get me wrong, though, I was getting close. Call it a gut feeling. As soon as I could rein in Nekhbet's magical power, I'm sure it would be easy as pie.

But that hadn't been Vali's question, right? He'd wanted to know if I got stronger from our fighting. And the answer was an emphatic "no".

I never felt myself getting stronger because of my training with him.

Did I feel a little more confident in my movements? Yes, absolutely. Did I pick up on learning some cool little tricks? Again, that's a yes.

But raw power? No. The only way I was able to increase that was by slowly accommodating to Nekhbet's divine energy.

Vali took my silence at face value. He loosened my grip on his wrist. A few kids ran past us and earned a spot in front of the service desk, ready to get their clubs for a rousing game of jungle-themed mini golf.

"Where you're from," Vali stuffed both hands in his pockets, "that might be fine. Where you're from it might even be the norm. But this world isn't yours. There's always a threat looming in the distance. There's always someone stronger than you."

I shrugged helplessly. "I never cared about being the strongest. As long as I'm stronger than the bully, that's good enough for me."

He sighed. "That kind of mentality is going to get you killed. And it's going to get everybody you care about killed, too."

Before he could walk off again, I clamped my fingers down on his shoulder and pulled him back. "Hey, what's gotten into you?"

I saw the guy at the desk give us a nervous look. To him, we were probably two teenagers about to throw punches. And knowing Vali, that might not have been too far from what could actually happen.

Now, I had faith in Vali knowing the resort wasn't a good place to pick a fight, but that didn't mean he wouldn't crack me across the jaw if he wanted.

"This thing with the Hero Faction is just the start." Vali sounded sure of himself. "Something big is coming our way."

I let go of him. "Rizevim?"

"Maybe." He didn't sound so confident anymore.

"You think you're ready for him?"

Vali's face twisted. He looked like someone just force-fed him a dirty sock. "Who knows? Rizevim could have gotten stronger than I realize. Or maybe he's gotten weaker. That would be the kicker, really. If I surpassed him just because he goes senile."

"Hey, that's a win for you, man. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"I don't want to win by default." Vali's eyes went sharp. "I'd rather die than win in such a boring way."

Yeah, that was definitely something he would say. At least I'd kind of gotten him out of his funk.

 _He made good points, though_. Nekhbet popped to the forefront of my mind.

I wanted to groan. _Not this again. Look, nothing you say is gonna work. Save your breath already._

Wait, did gods even need to breathe? More to the point, did Nekhbet need to breathe since I was hosting her? I sure hope she didn't use _me_ to breathe because, honestly, that's all sorts of messed up.

"If you're so scared of being bored"—I handed him my putter—"then let's make a deal. If you win, I'll throw everything I have at you the next time we train."

Vali's expression shifted into one of interest. "Azazel doesn't want us overdoing it."

I smirked, knowing I'd hooked him. "What Zaze doesn't know won't hurt him."

Locked in a gaze, he nodded. "Fine. And if you win?"

"Easy." I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder. The rest of our friends were already making their way through the course. "You've gotta loosen up and have some fun with us. Stop worrying about being the strongest for a day or two. We're here to relax. Not fight."

Vali twirled the putter around. "After what you've been through, I thought you might understand," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Understand what?"

His fist came up to thump against my chest. The corners of his mouth rose into an icy smile. "Everything is a fight, Percy."

* * *

 **Part IV**

* * *

The first day of our vacation came to a sputtering end, like a car that ran out of gas in the desert.

Azazel had reserved the penthouse suite for our group, which meant we all had plenty of space to feel comfortable in. The room itself was nice. Like, I'm talking _really_ nice. Probably just as nice as the Lotus Hotel and Casino.

Remembering that place also reminded me of that first quest. Annabeth and Grover. Those two were my first real friends. They were my best friends.

I blinked up at the ceiling.

On the bed next to mine, Arthur and Le Fay slept soundly. In total, the suite came with three bedrooms, two of which sported a pair of queen-sized beds while the last got a king. Add to that two bathrooms, a kitchenette, a sizeable living room, and two closets, the penthouse totally seemed worth its price.

At the far end of the room, closer to where the Pendragons rested, rich moonlight spilled in from the only window. The blinds were drawn down but hadn't been closed, and the sheer, cream-colored curtains couldn't stop the light from coming through. Maybe that's what they had been going for?

My mouth was dry. I'd been trying to fall asleep for a good while, but nothing had come of my tossing and turning. I even tried counting carnivorous sheep from Polyphemus' island.

No luck there.

Slipping out from under the ridiculously smooth duvet, I made my way into the living room, keeping as quiet as I could. A warm amber glow met me as I stepped through my bedroom door. The indirect ceiling lights splashed the living room with a barely noticeable gleam. The contemporary seats and the huge flatscreen television intimidated me when I passed them.

Still a little groggy, I bowled right into Penemue when I sharply turned into the kitchen.

She had a light spear up and pressed to my throat before I could even blink. When she realized it was me, the spear broke apart. We stared at each other for a few seconds, my shock at almost having a hole poked in my neck keeping me from saying anything, while her own did the exact same. Eventually, we both broke into anxious snickers at the awkward situation.

"Sorry," Penemue whispered, sending me an apologetic smile. "That was an overreaction and a half if I had to judge."

"Nah, you're good. I'm just glad you didn't end up giving me a new hole to breathe through," I waved off her apology, voice equal to hers so I wouldn't wake anyone up. Especially not Vali, since I'd crushed him during our game of mini golf. Let it be known that the great-grandson of Lucifer couldn't putt to save his life.

"What're you doing up?" Penemue asked while she moved back to the kitchen. There, she took up a glass of water, sipping lightly, her posture inoffensive throughout.

I gestured to the water. "Looks like the same as you. Throat's a desert."

She slid the glass over the marble countertop. "Better drink up, then. I'd hate for you to miss out on making your typical comments because of something I had the power to remedy."

I raised an eyebrow. Penemue seemed amused. She had let her hair free again, and her clothing was just a light camisole and boxer briefs. I mean, I'd known she was gorgeous from the day we met, but seeing Penemue in just her underwear was . . . different from when I saw her in her swimsuit. It felt more intimate. Our relative proximity only reinforced that feeling.

"Is this that famous demigod gluttony I heard so much about back in the day?" Penemue's eyelids fell into an invitation, and with one hand she guided a lock of her wavy hair from a spot by her cheek to hold behind her ear. "I've never experienced it myself, you know?"

"That's . . ." I struggled to find the words. I was pretty sure she'd been talking about something other than food, but I didn't want to read the conversation wrong. "Uh, that's good to know, I guess?"

If she was disappointed, she hid it well. Her long fingers trailed the shell of the same ear her hair had gone behind, and she absentmindedly moved her eyes, lids still low, toward the refrigerator, as if her next words wouldn't be anything special. Penemue said, "Do you think the stories are true, Percy?"

"Stories about what?" I asked. The way my name had slipped off her tongue made me blush.

"Demigod gluttony," she said.

"Who knows? I don't think I've ever eaten more than a normal person could." With a heave of my shoulders, I gave her my opinion. "Well, maybe when I exerted myself with the mark of Achilles . . ."

"That's the only time?" She slid a little closer to me. "I know you don't have that curse anymore. Does that mean you haven't been hungry these past few months?"

"Probably not more than a normal person, honestly."

Her mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "Right."

"Yeah." I noticed my eyes kept dipping below her neckline. Whether or not Penemue noticed was beyond me, but I went ahead and focused on the faucet behind her instead for a while. "I mean, uh, yeah. No, not really hungrier than a normal person. Uh, you?"

"Probably not more than a normal person," she repeated my words back to me while keeping her sight trained on anything but me. "I used to be a glutton, though. Calmed down a few decades after falling from Heaven, but, yeah, I gorged myself pretty often."

I made a noise that came up from the back of my throat—something caught between a grunt and a choked sigh. "Not so much anymore, then?"

"No, not so much anymore." She made her agreement, then turned to face me, that crooked smile of hers dipping into something quasi-demure. "So . . ."

"So?" I tried to keep my mind off the strange anticipation I felt as it smothered the room. My nerves were on edge. Something about the look Penemue gave me had undeniable traction.

I took a drink from her water without really thinking.

Except it wasn't water.

My eyes watered as pungent fire crept down my throat. Recoiling, I shuddered as the flavor hit me in full. "W-what in the name of Hebe is _that_?"

Penemue's grin was downright wolfish. "Bad vodka."

"Oh gods," I croaked. Lunging for the faucet, I ran the water and filled another glass just to drain it within a second. The taste lingered, and warmth settled in my gut, even after a cup of regular water. "Nasty. That stuff is rank."

"Drink enough and it starts getting tolerable. Want more? I'm willing to share."

"Generous of you. I'll pass, though. Thanks."

"What, you don't cave to peer pressure?"

"Apart from the stuff being super gross I . . . I just don't wanna drink."

Her playfulness dropped. "Something in the family?"

To say I was surprised by her initial assumption would have been downplaying it. I hadn't told anybody about Gabe. Not in this new world. And even in my old world, only one of my friends knew just how much Gabe drank. I never mentioned it to anybody. Not even Annabeth. But then again, she had never brought it up. I was grateful for that, too.

Well, I figured there wasn't a point in lying to Penemue now. I looked off to the side, staring at the nearest couch in the living room. "Yeah. Some guy my mom married for my own protection drank a lot. He was a jerk, through and through. I don't . . . I know it's stupid, but I don't want to be like that guy."

"I get it," Penemue tilted her head. "That said, I don't think you could ever be like that guy. Maybe it's presumptuous of me, since I know we aren't exactly the closest of friends, but I want to believe that my people-reading skills aren't total shit. Therefore, I feel comfortable enough saying this: I think you're good kid. Your heart's in the right place, at least. Keep that, and you'll be right as rain, kiddo."

I smiled back at her despite my bad memories of Gabe. I still remembered when I'd realized Gabe had been abusing my mom. Would Penemue still think the same if she knew I'd been ready to kill Gabe right then?

A 12-year-old kid, ready to use Medusa's severed head to kill his jerk of a stepfather. That had been me. Sure, it was to protect my mom, but the thought still made me wonder.

"Yeah . . . thanks," I mumbled.

She pulled away and took the vodka with her to the other side of the small kitchen. Crossing her legs, she leaned against the refrigerator. Her gaze focused on me. The atmosphere from before had all but evaporated. I actually felt disappointed that it had gone.

"So, what're you doing up this late?" I asked after getting some more water. The clock showed two hours past midnight. "Something on your mind?"

"Ah," Penemue ran her fingers over the front of her hair. "I'm just worried about the future."

That would make her second after Vali. Did they know something I didn't? Wouldn't be the first time I'd been left out of the loop.

"What's wrong with the future?" I asked. "Is the crystal ball showing bad omens?"

She took a sip. "Not in the literal sense. Azazel and Kokabiel were butting heads again."

"Yeah, but from what Zaze tells me, he and Kokabiel always get into it when these things get brought up. How is this any different?"

"Did you just call him 'Zaze'?" Penemue almost choked on her drink. "Sounds like the name of a childhood bully from summer camp in 2004."

"That was oddly specific. Did something similar happen to you?"

She stared at me, amused. "I'm too old to get bullied by children."

"You're _never_ too be old to be bullied by children," I said.

"Maybe so," she snapped her fingers. "Anyway, this time feels different between Azazel and Kokabiel. Call it instinct, but something big is coming over the horizon. Don't tell anybody, but Azazel got reports from Japan. We might have found the Red Dragon Emperor."

Uh-oh. I'd better not let that information slip to Vali. If that guy found out, he'd catch the first boat to Japan and scour the country until he crossed paths with the poor sucker destined to be his rival. The worst part about this might have been the timing, actually.

We'd suspended searches and observation of Sacred Gear possessors, so how were we going to keep an eye on the Boosted Gear?

"Who knows about this?" I asked. "Pretty big development, right? Learning about a Longinus isn't exactly a daily thing."

She vaguely waved at the air in front of us. "The Grigori's top brass, the person who originally made the allegation, and now, you."

I might have been touched by her trust. "Why'd you tell _me_ , though? What if I was a spy for the Hero Faction? Or worse; what if I was a Canadian?"

"Oh, _puh-leeze_. You aren't polite enough to be Canadian. Plus, if you were a spy for the Hero Faction, then we'd find out as soon as the Red Dragon Emperor was recruited or killed. But apart from that, neither Azazel nor I think you're a spy. Four months is a long time to pretend to be emotionally distressed."

"Guilty as charged." I sulked. "So has Azazel given us a game plan on what we're gonna do with the Boosted Gear?"

"Not really. While we'd want to observe the possessor and assess his threat level, as it stands, there's a major obstacle apart from the Hero Faction."

"What's that?"

"The suspected Red Dragon Emperor is living inside Devil-controlled territory. Any move we make is going to look bad. Bad enough to reignite the war."

I understood. "And Azazel doesn't want that, even if it means giving the Boosted Gear to the Devils or Hero Faction."

"Better to let one Longinus go than start a war we aren't ready for," Penemue nodded. "A lot of us have had enough war to last us an eternity. Kokabiel isn't one of those guys. He loves war. That's why he and Azazel were arguing. Hell, even Barakiel started getting all uppity too."

"And what about you?" I asked. "Have you had enough war to last an eternal lifetime?"

Penemue drained her vodka. She kept it in her mouth for a second, then swallowed hard, her face twisted into something I couldn't comprehend. It soon became clear that she wasn't about to say anything.

I stared at her. "Well, _I_ think peace is nice. I got to hang out with my girlfriend and worry about catching up on biology and stuff instead of trudging through Greek hell. Have you ever met Misery herself? First off, she's hideous, but more importantly, she'll try to poison you to death. Not very fun. Not as bad as meeting Greek hell personified, of course, and almost being sucked into a void of endless suffering, but not much is worse than _that_."

"' _Biology and stuff_ '? I'm listening. Tell me all about how your genius girlfriend helped you learn about ' _biology and stuff_ '."

"The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell," I said, refusing to be embarrassed by her suggestive hints. It really was my own fault, though. I should have known better.

"Can't even entertain me with that, huh?" Penemue gave me a sideways glance. "The more I hear about your life, the more I realize you haven't had it easy. Seriously, I'm surprised you're still alive. And . . . I'm glad you're on our side."

"Yeah, well," I stretched my arms over my head, "sometimes ancient deities pick the worst time to try to destroy the world. Can't do anything about it. I'm all about going with the flow. That's kind of my gimmick."

"You know, if you aren't careful, that cool attitude is gonna make girls drop their panties faster than you can run from them."

"What?"

"It's true. Take it from a girl."

"Wait . . . _you're a girl_?"

"Being rude won't help you. You should be more careful. Words can be scarier weapons than nuclear arms."

" _Puh-leeze_ ," I mimicked her earlier phrase. "Careful is my middle name."

"Says the guy who wound up facing off against the wielders of True Longinus and Dimension Lost."

"That was different."

"Says the guy who wound up fighting Vali the first time they met."

" _That_ was a misunderstanding."

"Says the guy who followed his girlfriend into Greek hell."

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

Penemue languidly detached herself from the refrigerator and inched my way. "Does the phrase _Chronic Hero Syndrome_ ring any bells, Mr. Jackson? It should. Unfortunately, it seems as though you struggle with such a condition. Pair that with the _Fight Magnet_ affliction, and I can only feel some sort of twisted pity for you. Woe, woe."

"Woah?"

"Woe is you."

"Who?"

"Me too, I guess."

I blinked. She'd lost me with her word game. "What are you talking about?"

"Woe."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. "Right . . . woah."

Penemue smirked and held her glass of vodka up to the dimmed light. "Everybody has their woe, you know? That's why it's important to have fun, despite all our stupid woes."

"Is that so?"

"Well, it's something like that. I just wanted you to know."

"Thanks for the heads-up."

She blinked at her glass as the light refracted through it. The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound. With a negligible huff, Penemue said, "It's funny. My old boss, Samael, used to tell me I needed to have more fun all the time. Never was the same afterward."

Samael.

I'd heard the name once before, mentioned by Azazel in passing during one of our conversations.

Curious about the fuss the guy managed to raise, I asked, "Who's Samael?"

"He was the chief Angel of Fifth Heaven a long time ago. Samael . . ." Penemue squinted off into nothing. She set the glass down and looked at me again. "We got way off topic. You're pretty sly."

I blinked and thought back to the start of our conversation. "Oh, yeah. I didn't mean to—"

"Liar," Penemue smiled at me. "You're such a good liar. Not good enough, though," she sang. "I've been a liar for much, _much_ longer."

"No, seriously," I smiled despite myself. "I wasn't trying—"

"Liar, liar," she kept on singing, poking my arm playfully with her index finger, "you are such a little liar. I wouldn't even call you a good liar, either. Then again, I don't blame you, _per se_. Lying is . . . dirty business. Hurtful business. Get too deep into that rabbit hole, and you might never untangle yourself from the web. So, I'm glad you aren't a good liar. Once you get good a lying, it can become second-nature. Easy. Easy lies instead of easy truths. A white lie here, a black lie there, a lie for any situation. Worse is when those black lies become as easy as the white lies."

At some point, her voice had dropped low, becoming a rumbling, prickly close-throated growl compared to the polished pitch from earlier. It was raw. It was scratchy. It was painfully naked.

There was no way I couldn't feel awkward. She was clearly speaking to me as if I were a confidant. She was trusting me with this, maybe even expecting me to respond in a certain way that I couldn't fathom.

My eyes fell, and, to my chagrin, stalled when they reached her thighs, and almost halted completely when they traveled down her legs.

Again, it wasn't as if I hadn't seen them when she was in swimwear earlier, but in that moment, under the warm lights and in the dead of night, something felt different about our situation.

We were close. Close enough so that I could see a trace of dissatisfaction in the way her face drew up. Close enough so that I could smell the remains of whatever product she used to wash her hair in the shower. Close enough so that I felt myself wanting to bring my fingers to hers. Close enough so that I could feel like a complete jerk for thinking about her as anything except a vulnerable person in that situation.

Faint disgust grew stronger as I clenched my teeth and forced myself to stare at the floor instead of her body. What had I been thinking?

"Hey," her voice made me look up. She'd backed off a little.

"Uh, hey." I felt stupid for saying anything. Still, I didn't trust myself to read the subtext correctly. I'd have to work on that. "What's up?"

"Not much," she said, poking me again. It sounded like she was back to normal. "Just hanging out with this punk who thinks he's too good for this world."

"Sounds like a jerk," I laughed curtly. "Why're you hanging out with him?"

She shrugged sluggishly. "Dunno. I guess he's kinda interesting. Weird, yeah, but in a really interesting way. He's an alien! Came from another world! Fell from the sky, I hear. Broke out of Area 51 after his spaceship crashed in the ocean. He's still at large, hiding out with a bunch of crows in their nest."

"Scary. Is he small, green, and deathly allergic to Earth's bacteria?"

"Actually, he's kinda tall, has these stunning sea-green eyes, and hasn't died despite being exposed to thousands of little eukaryotes every day." Penemue grinned and patted my head. "Not to mention he's a pretty cool guy. He's got some baggage, but then again, who doesn't?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Still, if he needs someone to talk to, I hope he realizes that he has friends willing to listen. There are people who want to help him."

"I . . . I'm sure he'd appreciate that."

"I hope so," Penemue smiled with a certain kind of strength to it. "He deserves to know that his life is as important as any of the people's that he saves. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that this punk is a hero. Honest to goodness. A Greek hero."

"Really?"

"Pretty much." She flicked my nose lightly. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine. "Say, Percy, I was wondering something."

I glanced at her mouth as it moved. "Uh, yeah, what's that?"

"Who are you?"

"Huh?"

"I'm wondering who you are. For a while, I thought I knew, but, lately—well, lately I've found myself wondering that question more often. I hoped you could give me some insight."

My brain raced to find an answer. "I'm . . . Percy."

Penemue smiled. "Ah, so that's it, huh? You're Percy. Okay. I think I like that answer, for now. Anyway, you're looking tired. Go back to bed, Percy."

"Right," I rubbed my eyes, but I wasn't actually tired anymore. I felt like going outside and breathing in the cold air that undoubtedly worked frost onto the grass. After everything we'd just talked about . . . sleep was the last thing on my mind.

Penemue led me back to the living room, walking in front of me to reach her room. Before getting too far, she glanced at me over her shoulder, a much more naturally suspicious quirk of her mouth coming to life. "Say, how's that girl that always sends you letters doing?"

My hand rose to pinch the bridge of my nose. I'd been so caught up in the goings-on recently that I'd completely forgotten to respond to Rossweisse's last message. That left a bad taste in my mouth.

"Have you asked her how often she flicks the bean?" Penemue asked.

"How often she what?"

Penemue wiggled her eyebrows. "You know, flicking the bean. Itching the ditch. Petting the cat."

I kept staring at her, feeling like I was just on the cusp of understanding what she was talking about, with only one step keeping me from the truth.

"Oh for crying out loud," Penemue put a hand on her hip. "Do you know how often she rubs one out? Plays the downstairs DJ? Gets off?"

My ears and neck burned as I finally got what she was asking. "Why would—I mean, uh, no, but—but _why_ do you think I would know something—like _that_?"

"Teenage hormones."

That was her blunt reply, as if it made sense for me to just casually ask Rossweisse how often she masturbated.

I mean, I didn't even know how often _Annabeth_ had done that, and we'd been through more than enough to reach that level of trust with one another.

"You can't say you aren't curious now, though," Penemue said with evident self-satisfaction. "But now I'm wondering how often _you_ do it. And who you think of while doing so."

"That's none of your business." Not willing to stand there any longer, I tried to move past her and escape into my room.

"Oh, Percy," she sang out and made me look back at her. She'd started stretching her back, which bared her midriff to me, navel and soft stomach all. Pretending to yawn, she said, "I won't get mad if you say you fantasize about me."

I slipped inside before she could tease me any more. As if our entire conversation wouldn't have been enough for me to think about, that last jibe all but guaranteed Penemue would be on my mind for a while.

* * *

 **Part V**

* * *

I couldn't go back to sleep. After tossing and turning under my covers for an hour, I finally decided to get up and do what I originally planned: get some air.

So, once again, I left Arthur and Le Fay in the room alone. This time, though, I grabbed my winter coat, put on my jeans, wrapped the scarf Le Fay had gotten me for Christmas around my neck, and left the suite with one of the keycards in my back pocket.

Having lived at the Grigori's lavish headquarters for four months, I'd gotten used to posh (arguably hollow and superficial) decorations.

The hallway I exited into fit into that kind of category.

Beautiful black tile flooring stretched down in either direction, and the smooth walls were coated in luxurious burgundy paint.

Expensive and exotic looking plants had been potted and placed three yards apart.

Oil-on-canvas paintings decorated the hall, illuminated from above by warm honey-toned lights, giving me the impression that the pictures were worth more than just a thousand words. Then again, they would be locked behind some kind of glass protection if the resort was worried about theft or damage.

Since the penthouse suite was on the resort's fifth floor, I had to take the elevator down.

 _Where are you going?_ Nekhbet asked me as I walked through the expansive lobby area.

My footsteps made dim echoes on the stone floor. An elevated pool of water sat just slightly off-center, directly beneath an open skylight. Lights had been strung up for the holidays, and though it was almost March, they still sparkled as they hung from the ceiling.

The only people in the expansive lobby apart from employees were folks in expensive pajamas talking on their expensive cell phones.

 _Air,_ I responded.

Once I was outside, getting what I wanted, something still didn't sit right with me.

 _Hey, there's a lake around here, right?_ I asked Nekhbet, who probably knew the area just as well as I did.

She shrugged. _I think so. To the north._

Jogging through the parking lot, I made sure to keep well away from any security cameras or passing civilians. Wouldn't want them seeing what came next, after all.

 _Wait, Jackson, you aren't going to . . . ?_

 _Lend me some of that vulture juice,_ I told her. The words felt wrong as soon as they left my metaphysical mouth. _Er . . . I'm gonna take some of your power and fly over._

 _Why,_ Nekhbet sounded like she was trying to fight off a long-suffering sigh, _in the world would you do that?_

I frowned. The question was entirely valid. Really, I had no reason other than just a gut feeling. Well, that, and I figured that getting into some water would help me sort my thoughts away from being the jumbled mess that they'd become not long ago.

 _I dunno. Maybe I'm going through puberty again?_

 _You're hopeless._

Yeah, that much might have been true. Though, that was more what other people felt about me.

 _That woman aroused you,_ Nekhbet observed, no small amount of disapproval leaking through her tone. _She also confused you._

Again, that was true. When I thought about Penemue, my mind was drawn back to the tension between us in the kitchen, and again to how good she looked in her sleepwear. Her smile also came to mind. She had a great smile, be it coy or sincere and serious.

Around me, _Vulture Avatar 1.0_ manifested in all of its vulture-y goodness, pimped out with crackling purple energy and wings. Rolling my shoulders, I let a little of Nekhbet's instinct crawl into my head so I could start flying.

We took off.

Now, I'd like to clear this up. I had more or less gotten over my slight fear of flying. Years of constantly knowing that Zeus could (and probably would) zap me with a gazillion volts of master bolt lighting for flying too high in his territory might have conditioned me to have a healthy anxiety toward high places, but after riding Blackjack enough times, I had stopped worrying so much. Low flying wasn't too hard on my nerves anymore. High flying, though? I still didn't want to do that.

Could you really blame me for my initial doubts, though? Zeus, himself, had warned me the first time we met to stay off his lawn.

Despite being labeled a rebel because of my naturally brooding expression, I was averse to being disintegrated via lightning bolt.

 _There._

Nekhbet's declaration made me look down. I had zoned out while flying. Being a pilot was apparently not in my future.

Below me was a small lake. Since I wasn't intent on getting spotted or being mistaken for a UFO by the rogue conspiracy theorist, I let the avatar break apart.

The wind rushed over my face as I plummeted headfirst. A second later, I crashed through the water's surface. Creating a current, I rode it to the shore, where I stepped out onto a small assortment of smooth rocks, completely dry.

Taking a deep breath, I let the crisp mountain air freeze my lungs to the point of pain.

As the water I'd disturbed slowly came to stop its rippling, I could make out the moon's reflection, bright and whole, there on the surface.

My eyes had adjusted well to the dim light. All around the lake were pine trees. I couldn't see any kind of conspicuous exit. Getting out on foot would take a while, no doubt, considering that forests were easy to get lost in. And on the way here, though I'd been spacing out, I was pretty sure I hadn't seen any roads or highways.

After all, I only considered flying around like that because the resort we were staying at was situated nicely away from heavy civilization. Sure, there was a small town at the base of the mountain range, but apart from that and a few houses, I was free and clear.

"Nice night, huh?"

I just about jumped out of my skin hearing a voice somewhere behind me. Turning, my hand fell to my pocket with practiced ease, already grasping Riptide before I even got a look at the guy who'd spoken. I felt myself enter the lake's edge again, water lapping against my ankles, energy zipping into my brain.

Standing eerily close to me was a man wearing a long black overcoat stared at the moon above us. His hair was mixed between black and platinum blond, and when he glanced at me curiously, I noticed his eyes were separate colors too. He must have been a well-to-do businessman. His black coat, black gloves, black trousers, and black loafers all looked expensive, not something someone would wear to take a midnight dip in a remote lake when it was below freezing outside.

A real daredevil, I'd met up with.

There was something else about him though. Whatever that thing was, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. A feeling of wholesome dread rolled like the clouds above us. It was only when I tuned into _Nekhbet Vision_ that I understood.

Nekhbet put the words right in my mouth, _Oh. That's bad._

My stomach twisted. A hot block of lead sat in my intestines, casually melting its way through my guts and doing its darndest to make me puke up my dinner. A dinner, might I add, that had been very pleasant going down. If it came back up, however, I doubted it would be as nice.

 _So . . . that's his aura?_ I asked.

 _Unfortunately,_ Nekhbet said.

The man's aura, as we discovered, had been wrapped so tightly around his body that it actually could have been called another layer of skin. It was dense enough to act as armor. I wasn't so sure my sword could cut through.

"You were drawn to this place as well, then?" the man asked. He had an accent that I couldn't peg, and his voice was gravelly, if not especially deep. "I wonder if this could really be a coincidence. Well, it must be. So, who are you? A minor god lost in the woods at this time?"

Maybe I was just jumpy. But as soon as I saw him shift more of his attention my way, I drew Riptide. The glow from my sword didn't quite reach the man's form. Still, under the moonlight, I saw a dangerous glint in his heterochromatic eyes.

"Who are you?" I kept my voice level, somehow, which I give myself major props for. The guy was terrifying; his power, nigh absolute. "It's a little late to be skinny-dipping. You'll freeze."

The man tilted his head back to look at the moon again. "Crom Cruach."

I didn't dare take my eyes off him. "All right. Nice to meet you, Crom Cruach."

"Is it?"

"You're right, the jury's still out on that one."

"I see."

My mouth twisted. He didn't even bother to glance my way throughout our short conversation. "Anyway, I was having a nice time brooding before you got here. Would you mind leaving me be?"

"Why should I?"

"I was here first."

"And I have all the power."

The river inside me flooded my veins with lightning. Despite the freezing air, my body temperature rose just a little. "Can't we be civilized about this? Finders keepers, and all that jazz."

He tilted his head to the side, _finally_ looked me for just a second, and—

His fist cut through the air like a missile, coming from my lower left side toward my sternum. I turned my sword parallel to his shoulders and blocked his punch with the flat side of Riptide's glowing celestial bronze blade.

And yet, even in the face of Nekhbet's borrowed strength and the boost I got from standing in water, Crom Cruach still managed to launch me into a parabolic arc over the lake. I soared higher than I did far, which actually did good things for my survivability since I came back down to land in the water from a fifty-foot drop, rather than hitting solid ground.

I clambered to stand atop the lake's surface. The electric buzz I felt in my arms gradually slipped away, and the ache in my shoulders did the same.

 _He's some kind of monster,_ Nekhbet whispered, horrified.

That much was obvious. He'd moved so fast I almost missed it. If I hadn't been standing in water at the time, when my senses were sharpest, he might have killed me. Gods knew he'd put enough muscle behind that punch to smash my ribcage and leave my heart a pulpy mess.

"Hm," the man grunted, standing where I'd once been, his arms crossed over his chest. "Good reaction."

I hefted Riptide. "Thanks. I know kung-fu."

The man's eyes sharpened. He cleared his throat. Then, it happened. His tightly wound aura unraveled, and reality _exploded_.

A mass of impossibly dense power shattered the rocks beneath his feet. Each and every stone in a ten-foot radius of him was reduced to fine sand. Trees bent and shook from the howling storm that was Crom Cruach. He was the center of a hurricane; the unstoppable force that met everything without a care in the world. Some of the weaker trees were uprooted while others had branches sheared clean off, and more still snapped in half and toppled over.

If I hadn't been keeping the water calm, I'm sure the lake would have been sloshing around in a violent fury.

The gale strengthened. I had to shield my eyes with one arm to stop them from aching. My fingers tightened around the handle of my sword. I felt sweat slicken my hold. The block of lead kept eating away at my stomach. My throat constricted painfully in the face of his overwhelming power.

Crom Cruach put his hands in his pockets.

Creation warped. Water became red. Trees became black. The sky became white. My sweat became magma rolling down my skin.

 _Holy Hera. This guy's gonna kill me._

Riptide dipped, slipping right out of my fingers like a bar of soap. It sank into the lake, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, drifting into the flood of red until it hit rock bottom.

"You won't fight?" Crom Cruach asked.

I backed up. There was no way I could fight him. I would have tried to do so before he let his power free, but not anymore. There wasn't a point. He couldn't lose. If we fought, I'd die.

"I see," he looked at the sky again. "Perhaps we were too disparate. I thought the night had promised me something more interesting."

With a final, contemptuous glance my way, Crom Cruach swiveled toward the treeline and walked away. An icy gust of wind sent his black overcoat billowing as he disappeared amid the forest he'd partially destroyed.

I stood alone on the lake. Riptide returned to my pocket. Before my legs could buckle, I took the initiative to sit down.

Nekhbet, with a fury that threatened to swallow me whole, said, _Never again. We are never allowing ourselves to be ridiculed like that again. I will personally ensure you have the backing of creation and chaos to_ bend _the universe to our way of balance. In doing so, I will show you how to be unbent. Brace yourself._

Running a hand through my hair, it was all I could do to nod and shiver in the cold night.

* * *

 **End Chapter**

* * *

 **A/N:** **I'd like to acknowledge the words of support and enthusiasm for this story from the readers. Thank you all.**


	6. VI

**A/N: Edits as of 3/3/19.**

 **Chapters 1 through 5 have been edited to build better toward the themes I have in place and later events. Chapter 6 has been replaced by something new (this chapter), as has chapter 7. The old chapter 6 was split and made into chapters 8 and 9.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or High School DxD.**

* * *

6\. For Want of a Babysitter

* * *

 **Part I —** **Azazel — 18 February**

* * *

Azazel had long since figured himself harshly desensitized to surprise. Being more than a few thousand years old would do that to anyone, he assumed, especially when he took accounts from other antediluvian existences into consideration. They all seemed to have experienced the same kind of desensitization during the spans of their life.

Odin, for example, was so old that almost nothing could garner more than a semi-interested hum from him at the best of times. Unless, of course, the subject was perverted in some way. Odin had a soft spot for sexual misconduct, as did many of the older gods. Zeus and Poseidon were two names that popped to mind readily.

Well, truth be told, Azazel wasn't much better than those guys. He'd admit as much to anyone who bothered asking. Azazel was old. Over time, as the sequential number of his harems grew, the things that could surprise him dwindled. It was something of an inverse effect, he supposed. Each year that slipped by cut down on his surprise-triggers by a certain margin. Now that he reached the twenty-first century after Christ had been born, he thought there wouldn't be much that could catch him off-guard.

Percy Jackson, however, seemed to take personal issue with that mindset.

"You're telling me," Azazel slowly felt a grin split his mouth wide, "that you fought against Crom Cruach? The Crescent Circle Dragon? An Evil Dragon that died long ago when Christianity spread into his territory? The strongest Evil Dragon? You fought _him_? That guy? _That_ Crom Cruach?"

Ever since he'd taken Percy Jackson into his organization, given him a place to call "home base", Azazel felt things would be different. Actually, that feeling extended even before that, to when they'd been speaking in the restaurant during their first meeting. It had been a nagging prickle at the back of his mind which told him to take the boy into the Grigori.

A good call that had been, too.

Percy Jackson was a demigod. A "half-blood", as was the boy's prerogative to call himself. While that alone wasn't enough to spark Azazel's intrigue too terribly, there was more to Percy than met the eye. Example: Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, had exited a strange opening in the world which Azazel had theorized led to the Dimensional Gap.

His hunch about that had been right on the money, too. Percy wasn't just a demigod. No, nothing so mundane.

Rather, Percy Jackson was a demigod from an entirely different _parent_ dimension. As in, the universe that Azazel knew—that which encompassed the human world, the divine residences, the Underworld, the Realm of the Dead, and all places like that—were all different from where Percy Jackson had come from.

Outwardly, Azazel had tried to maintain his professionalism. At the time he'd been working on recruiting Percy into the Grigori, so coming off as totally off his rocker wouldn't do either of them any good. He'd managed to keep a relatively cool exterior throughout offering Percy a job, and he'd been especially pleased when the kid had taken him up on it. After all, anyone who could fight Vali to a standstill was worth having.

Internally, though, Azazel had been frantically pumping his fist, screaming that Michael could suck it. They'd always been at odds about the particulars of separate parent dimensions. Michael never believed there were such things, while Azazel held his own beliefs.

The Biblical God, who had still been alive at the time, never confirmed nor denied the existence of other parent dimensions, only adding fuel to their feud.

When Percy had given a solid, first-hand explanation of another dimension existing, one where the Biblical God was referred to as a "metaphysical" concern, even among the supernatural world, Azazel had been ecstatic.

"Yeah, I think that's what I'm telling you," Percy reclined in his chair, running a hand through his hair, obvious frustration coming through his sea-green eyes.

An hour ago, Azazel had been going about his typical day, dealing with both the good and the bad of waking up another morning. He'd been hoping to get a decent amount of work done after he sent Vali's team out to Pennsylvania for a short vacation. They were a rowdy bunch, and with almost all of them being ultimate-class entities, any brawls they started usually ended in property damage.

The last mock-fight between Vali, Kuroka, Bikou, and Percy had destroyed an entire wing of dormitories.

It hadn't been a pretty mess.

Vali's friends were a bunch of battle-freaks. In the end, when he'd sent them out, Azazel had chosen Penemue to be their chaperone, mostly because she'd been pestering him for time off since the new year started. It was the perfect way to quell two headaches at once. Azazel had looked forward to a quiet day.

Percy Jackson, once again, must have taken offense to those peaceful thoughts. He and Penemue had barged right into Azazel's office without so much as knocking five minutes ago, then proceeded to drop a bombshell without preamble. A bombshell that went by the name _Crom Cruach_.

Apparently, during the night, Percy went out for some air, only to be met with a man claiming to be Crom Cruach. They'd scuffled, Percy had lost, and shortly after, the rest of the team arrived at the lake due to Crom unleashing his devastating power.

Azazel looked at Penemue. "Where are the others?"

"I sent them off," she said. "Most of them were complaining that they weren't the ones going against Crom. Their belly-aching got on my nerves."

Percy raised his hand. "Yeah, mine too. By-the-by, just wanna swing this as a suggestion: you guys think we can enroll Vali in some kind of interpretive dance class? Or basket weaving? He _seriously_ needs a new outlet for his energy."

Penemue guffawed, "Interpretive dance?"

Percy's lip twisted into the barest trace of a smirk. "Yeah. Can you imagine? _Vali Lucifer stars in 'Angels with Filthy Souls Part 2: Filthier Souls'_. I think he'd be the perfect fit. Of course, we'll need to get him some tights—"

At the image of Vali dressed in tight white leggings, fluttering across a stage, all while wearing that same inaccessible scowl he usually did, Azazel broke out laughing. Penemue followed just a second later, almost toppling out of her seat.

It took some time before any of them were ready to talk again, but when the laughter died, Azazel said, "I'd pay damn good money to see that."

Penemue pinched the bridge of her nose, still snickering quietly to herself. "Ditto. Fuck it, I'd get the best seats in the damn house."

Percy's wide smile shrunk. "Back on topic?"

Letting go of a long breath, Azazel got his bearings again. "Right. Crom. He told you that his name was Crom Cruach?"

"Yeah."

The office grew quiet. Azazel glanced at Penemue, who had closed her eyes in consternation. Both of them were probably thinking along similar lines. Crom Cruach had reportedly been killed in action by a saint of Ireland during Christianity's spread across Britannia; Saint Patrick or Saint Brigid of Kildare were usually credited for his death while they wielded the Holy Sword, Ascalon, Bane of Dragons.

"It's possible the reports were wrong," Penemue suggested, fingers half-covering her mouth as she spoke. "Wouldn't be the first time the Church lied for their own gain."

"With Crom Cruach gone from the Isles, they certainly would have had an easier time convincing people that Christianity was the way to go," Azazel admitted. "He was one of the more outspoken dissidents, and he took every opportunity to destroy Christianity's foothold in Ireland when he was around."

Percy scratched the bottom of his lip. "Is that why you guys put a kill-order on him?"

"Oi!" Penemue flicked the back of Percy's head. "Don't lump us in with those guys. The original Grigori had already split off from Heaven by the time all that stuff happened, all right?"

"Rude," Percy mumbled, rubbing his hair tenderly.

Without hiding his amusement, Azazel nodded. "You could say that was the reason."

"Okay, second question: how did that saint kill air?"

"What?"

Percy raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug of inconsequence. "Brigette. You said she killed air. How's that even possible?"

Penemue shook her head, expression bordering on being happily confused. "Saint _Brigid_ of _Kildare_. Kildare is a place in Ireland."

"Oh, so she didn't—"

"No." After a short roll of her eyes, Penemue pushed her chair closer to Percy's and smiled coyly at him, leaning over her armrest. "She didn't _kill air_. That would've been a feat-and-a-half, though, if she'd been able to pull it off."

Percy's eyes dipped to her chest, which pushed out from the way she'd positioned herself. "Yeah, that would've been cool," he said after looking back at her face.

Azazel watched, eyebrow arched in anticipation. Penemue, without the time to properly change after Crom's appearance, was still in her nightwear. Everything below the highest part of her thighs was bared, and the camisole, though modest enough, left a near innocuous portion of her midriff open to interpret.

"So what are we gonna do about it?" Percy asked. "Crom is . . . the dude's seriously scary."

"What do _you_ want to do about it, Percy?" Azazel returned the question. "Sounds like you're a little bitter about losing."

"I'd like to get back at him, sure."

"Not very heroic," Penemue chuckled, giving him a sharp smile. "And here I thought I'd figured you out."

Percy briefly glanced down at her legs, which she crossed one over the other. "What can I say? I'm just a dam engine-matic guy."

"What?"

"Sorry, inside joke. Two for one, actually." Percy cleared his throat. "Besides, I don't wanna kill the dude. Not unless he wants to kill me. I just wanna give as good as I get. A one-two punch. Float like a butternut, sting like a beagle."

"I don't think that's—" Penemue's mouth quirked. She appraised Percy for a second, moving strands of purple hair aside. "Never mind. I'm using that in the future, by the way."

"Give credit where it's due," Percy said with a shrug.

Penemue hummed thoughtfully. "I might mention you, yeah. As a footnote. 'Maybe I heard it from this guy'. Or something like that."

"Do you plagiarize every cool quote you hear or am I just a special case to you?"

"'Cool quote'?" The skeptical lift of her eyebrow came with a good-natured inflection. "Giving yourself too much credit on that one. I'm not knocking off the _Gettysburg Address_ or anything, am I?"

"Today it's me, tomorrow it's Abraham Lincoln."

"Ah, my subordinate thinks I'm a criminal!" Penemue draped an arm over her forehead and sank in her seat. "Woe is me!"

"Who is you?"

"Woe."

"How much woe?"

"About a barrel full."

"That's a lot of woe."

" _Woah,_ " Penemue and Percy said in unison as they shared a small laugh.

Putting their banter aside, Azazel stroked his chin. It was probably no secret to Percy that he wouldn't be able to get his mild-mannered revenge at the level he was at. Not against someone like Crom Cruach. Of course, that was assuming the man Percy had fought really _was_ Crom Cruach, which Azazel had his doubts about.

 _I've also gotta get more in the way of data for the Down Fall Dragon Spear. Not to mention putting the finishing touches on Blazer Shining Aura Darkness Blade._

Azazel kept both items up for consideration.

Foremost came his desire to perfect the artificial Sacred Gear he'd created. Fafnir was a great help, and with the observations and tests he'd made on Vali's own Balance Breaker, Azazel knew he was getting close to a breakthrough. If he could get one more dragon on board with his research . . .

An idea formed in his mind. A way for both himself and Percy to benefit from just one avenue. There was, in fact, a dragon still out there, alive and healthy as far as he knew, who, historically, had a tendency toward favoring those of her similar nature.

And who better than to help the child of a sea god, than a goddess born of the sea's own eldritch mystery?

"You know," Azazel said, interlacing his fingers in front of him, "I think it's time I return something to an old acquaintance. Percy, you up for it?"

"I'm not gonna die, am I?" Percy asked suspiciously.

"Not to worry. I have a foolproof plan that even _you_ won't be able to screw up," Azazel chuckled to himself.

Penemue leaned over to whisper in Percy's ear, loud enough for Azazel to hear, "When he says that, it's time to start running. You've gotta get the hell out of dodge! Book it!"

"Hilarious. Ha-ha-ha," Azazel deadpanned hard, pretending to laugh. A smirk split his mouth. "I do think your concern for him is cute, though. You guys are pretty energetic. Did something good happen last night?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. We had a wonderful discussion about the best way to destroy a massive stash of rare, one-of-a-kind, never-being-produced-again, highly questionable porn that our boss may or may not be hiding in a vault in his closet."

"H-hey now," Azazel felt sweat bead on his scalp. How the hell did she know about his secret stash anyway? He'd done his damn best to bury any and every paper trail of his acquisitions. Years had gone into creating the perfect collection of ultimate debauchery and corruption. He wouldn't risk it over something stupid. "There's no need to go that far. I was just kidding."

Penemue's lip curled into a sharp grin. "I figured as much. Now, you were saying something about a totally foolproof plan, I believe?"

* * *

 **Part II —** **Tiamat — 23 February**

* * *

There were times when Tiamat would be faced with situations she couldn't quite grasp. Despite being a dragon-goddess old enough to remember meeting other primordial beings themselves, Tiamat would never cease being surprised by every new generation.

Often, young Devils would enter the Forest of Familiars, her long-since-temporary home, and they would go out to seek a companion for themselves.

There were plenty of beasts prowling about, many of which would be a good fit for the Devils who sought practicality over status. These Devils usually left satisfied, if not wholly content. Their choices would serve them well in the future.

However, some Devils were unconcerned with being pragmatic. The venture of garnering status like capital was far more important to some young Devils than thinking about how to _use_ their status. Vanity of the nobility seemed to keep its moribund fingers around the neck of the new Anti-Satan regime, even when they aspired to be viewed as a progressive alternative to the Old Satan Faction. It was those Devils—they who thought of nothing but social appearances—that typically had their vision skewed before entering the Forest of Familiars, unable to separate predator from prey until it was already too late, and they had found themselves in the jaws of a monster unwilling to entertain their delusions for any amount of time.

One such monster was the Lernean Hydra. Quite the dangerous one that one was. Nasty temper, too. Devils were never forgiven for trespassing in the Hydra's lair, even if they managed to pass the threshold on the way out. No, the Hydra would continue to pursue them to the ends of the world. Dangerous indeed.

Another such monster was, in a way, Tiamat herself. She still recalled the last Devil who came to her. The young thing hadn't even said a word before she sent him scurrying away.

There were only two Devils she would even consider becoming a familiar of. The two strongest, of course. Sirzechs Lucifer and Ajuka Beelzebub. That said, she would never offer herself to them. And never did they look for that sort of contract with her. Ajuka was, in fact, something of her benefactor.

No other Devil would do for Tiamat without proving themselves worth sharing the same space.

Usually, a glare was all it took to send the younger Devils away. Sometimes that wasn't enough. Those who managed to withstand her judgment often found it necessary to taunt her with their self-assured words of veiled greed. They were absorbed in their own grandeur, and Tiamat would have to use more violent methods to force them from her home.

Killing them was out of the question. If her victim were a Devil of high standing, it would reflect poorly on her and on her guarantor, Ajuka Beelzebub. She quite liked the Forest of Familiars as a not-so-temporary home. It would be a shame if she had to abandon it over one misstep.

That said, the one who now stepped out from the treeline and onto the lakeshore was no foolish Devil.

It was someone whom she had been waiting for. Ever since this intruder had entered the Forest of Familiars, she had known, inexplicably, that she was the one he sought. Even as the auras of strong, vile monsters approached him, he never turned back. Even as those auras vanished, he kept pushing forward. When he finally reached her abode, Tiamat was finally able to lay eyes on him from her resting point on the island forming in the middle of the lake.

The intruder was a young man with raven-black hair, standing at about a middling height, with skin gently kissed by the sun.

Something about the boy made her think of a usurping, eccentric sea god from Greece. Yet, at the same time, Tiamat couldn't help but notice the stench of decaying meat and feathers.

Blood haphazardly splattered the intruder's clothing; none of it his appeared to be his own. Most of it was concentrated on his arms.

He had been hunting. Tiamat yielded her eyes from the blood and let them drop further. Two swords became known to her, one in each hand.

The sword that first garnered her attention was made of celestial bronze, a substance she had seen many times over, though it was not the principal component in any of her remaining treasures, or indeed in any of her lost treasures. The blade was a three-foot-long instrument of beauty, glowing like a distant star, garnering adjoining envy from Tiamat's heart.

The boy was in possession of a wonderful artifact. She was not. What had he done to earn it?

Surely, he wouldn't miss the sword if she were to procure it from him. Surely not! The boy seemed like a kindly one, despite his being covered in the remains of several monsters that even high-class Devils would find troublesome to kill. He was the kind of lad who would understand her plight and work to placate the terrible green monster that raged in her mind.

Yes. Tiamat resolved to demand the sword as payment for the audience he had come seeking. It could be his homage for being granted her attention.

With her thoughts settled, Tiamat glanced to his other hand. Her breath hitched.

Blinking, she waited for the image to disappear, waited for the illusion to shatter, waited for her eyes to stop lying to her. There could be no other explanation. The thing in his left hand must have been false.

The boy, who had also been staring at her, no doubt struck statuesque by fear, began to walk toward the lake. He was hesitant, Tiamat noted numbly as she waited for the sword in his left hand to vanish.

Once he reached the precipice, instead of stopping and calling out to her, the boy sauntered forward, stepping onto the lake's dark surface without a care. He continued to move. Each step brought him infinitely closer to her, the goddess and dragon, and while he was clearly wary, Tiamat hadn't expected him to be as poised as he was.

Soon—much too soon—the boy had arrived in front of her, calmly transitioning from the lake to the small island grove Tiamat rested on. Above them, the moon broke through the grim purple glow of the Underworld to cast light down onto his shoulders, crowning his head in a halo of silver-white. His shoes parted the grass silently as he slowed his gait. The boy stopped altogether, his head forced to tilt up so that he could meet her gaze with his own.

The stench of monster blood permeated the air around them, but underneath it, beneath the rotting flesh and feathers and blood, the boy smelled of something wholly familiar. Tiamat couldn't quite place what it was, but despite that, she believed the scent was . . . pleasant. Very pleasant. Able to be bottled and sold as a fragrance for other humans to adorn themselves with, no doubt.

The boy's lip curled upward into an oddly bashful smile. It was not the expression she had been expecting from him. "You're, uh, Tiamat, right? I think this is yours."

Craning her head down carefully, Tiamat watched as he held up the sword in his left hand. Unlike the other, this one was made entirely out of wood. It had no trace of metal from the handle to the point. The edge of the blade was dull, as was the point. It was a crude thing, too. Gnarled and chipped in places, the sword appeared unassuming.

However, any who wielded the sword could say they held a weapon of fantastical devastation. Its name had been spoken for generations, and it had been the very same sword to strike down a monster thought to be unkillable, even by godly parameters.

It was the Thunderbolt Sword. The Emerald-Studded Sword. The Sword of Solomon.

 _Shamshir-e Zomorrodnegār_.

It was a weapon which could cut anything meant to defend. Protections were useless. Unfortunately, the sword couldn't defend nearly as well as it attacked.

A finicky treasure, to be sure. But it was _her_ finicky treasure. It had _always_ been hers, despite that idiot Ddraig losing it in his fight with that _other_ idiot, Albion.

Idiots, the both of them.

It was _their_ fault she lost so much of her treasure! Mostly Ddraig's, yes, but she wasn't about to say Albion was innocent in the affair either. They fought, got too caught up in it, and then they were both torn to shreds by the combined forces of Christianity.

 _Idiots! Why didn't they make sure to keep out of another faction's battlefield? Why didn't Ddraig at least have the dignity to catapult his corpse across the world so I could kill him again?_

"Well, I'd say you've got a nice place," the boy glanced around the small island, weighing her old treasure in his hand flippantly, "but that might be a half-truth at best."

 **[Who are you?]** Tiamat asked, her rumbling voice sending small tremors into the lake. She still rested on her belly, calm in the face of the stranger, but her form was at least three times his height even then.

"Woah. That's a baritone if I've ever heard one." The boy's eyebrows had shot up as he gazed at Tiamat, lowering slowly when she didn't respond. "Uh, right. I'm Percy. It's nice to meet you, I guess."

Tiamat's eyes narrowed to slits. **[If you know what's good for you, set the sword down, and walk away. I'll spare you then, and only then. Refuse, and you die.]**

"Unfortunately," Percy lowered Shamshir-e Zomorrodnegār to the ground gently, "I can only do this much. The walking away part? Yeah, can't really do that yet."

 **[I have been more than generous, as you have been. However, one treasure of mine will not a familiar make of me. Leave.]**

Percy held up his hands, subsequently bringing the other sword up as well. "Hold up, hold up. I'm not looking for a familiar. My boss just needs your help, is all. He's kind of a pain, but, well, I'm getting hazard pay for doing this."

 **[Your boss? Who would that be, and what does he want?]** Tiamat asked. She was uncertain of his motives. That said, she was skeptical that the mastermind behind this meeting had no intent of asking Tiamat to form a contract with him. After all, who wouldn't want the strongest Dragon King as their familiar? Only a fool.

"You may know him. His name's Azazel, and he needs some help with his research on Sacred Gears."

Azazel? That twelve-winged creation of Abraham's sole guarantor? Tiamat supposed it made sense, to some degree. She didn't know Azazel well, but from what she _did_ know, the fallen watcher was a creature of envy, who had an unnerving fascination with those blasphemous tools the Abrahamic God conjured.

 **[So, tell me, then, why I shouldn't merely render judgment with a hail of dragon-fire upon the Grigori?]**

Percy seemed taken aback for his part. He blinked wildly, gaping at her for a second before his brain caught up to his mouth. "Wait, did I miss something? Why would you do that?"

Tiamat bared her teeth at him. Dragons couldn't smile very well, not least in part because the rows of yellow and ivory fangs made an intimidating image for creatures the world over. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't at least try. **[By your own word, Azazel sent you to me. No doubt, he planned on using my old treasure as leverage, in some way, so as to garner my acquiescence toward his own goal, never mind whatever else I had to say on the matter. With that, I can't help but wonder if he has any** _ **more**_ **of what is** _ **mine**_ **hidden away.]**

"Uh, he didn't say anything about that to me." Percy backed away, each step taken slow, careful, a method more geared for de-escalation rather than retreat. "But, there's gotta be a better way than burning the place to the ground."

Tiamat snorted. **[I've been using methods like that for quite some time. To good success, I might add.]**

"Look, I'll ask him to see if he's hiding anything else from you."

 **[And do you really think he'll admit to his crimes just because you 'asked' him?]** Her massive head shook in a shudder of disdain. **[No, I don't think so. If you say anything to him, he'll abscond my treasures away for safekeeping.]**

"You'd be willing to burn your treasure along with the institute, then?" Percy asked.

Tiamat blinked. _Oh, right._

While it was true that some of the mystic items might be able to survive her dragon-fire, not many could. Not even Shamshir-e Zomorrodnegār would have withstood the flames she could unleash. And since it was impossible to know precisely which treasures Azazel still held, her plan suddenly felt ridiculously excessive.

"Not to mention," Percy said, "if Azazel was willing to give you one of your treasures back, he probably figured you'd want to go and bury his nose in the dirt a little. I bet he'd already have moved any of the others—if he had any more, that is."

Again, this much sounded fair. Certainly, for a man to have made it to his age, Tiamat assumed Azazel was smarter than what ran for average.

Frustrated at seeing her initiative slowly crumble right before her eyes at the behest of a child, Tiamat growled at the moon. **[Fine. You'll have your peace. Tell me, then, why I should entertain Azazel's request when you've so graciously given me my sword back? If this is all you can offer me, perhaps I'll just cut my losses and leave our agreement this way.]**

"Because it's the nice thing to do?"

Tiamat wanted to laugh at him. **[What kind of sophomoric perception do you have of the world, boy?]**

Percy shrugged, clearly not off-put by her taunts. "I mean, what kind of person takes a present for granted so easily?"

 **[I . . . ]** Tiamat's words died in her throat, and her eyes narrowed in response. **[Are you questioning my personality, foolish one?]**

"All I'm saying is that it's pretty rude to take the money and run, so to speak."

The boy was clever, Tiamat realized. It was no longer a matter of wrath. Now, he was putting her pride to the test. Yes, while she doubted anybody would know if she simply incinerated him for having the gall to criticize her, it wasn't the masses who would have to live every day knowing she'd been pushed to her limit by a few words.

Tiamat would never be able to live the moment down. Dragons were notorious for their tantrums. She'd been trying to distance herself from that image by appearing more composed in irritating situations.

The thought that she would fall prey to the boy's words was enough to thoroughly embarrass her.

 **[Very well. Because you brought my treasure back, I suppose I should hear exactly what you have to say.]** Tiamat shifted her body and rose to stand. Each of her legs matched the boy in height. She peered down at him, stepping to the side and giving him sight of her home, the entrance of a cavern, one which descended into a much more spacious abode beneath the lake. It was a place she'd decorated to accommodate her whenever she wanted to play human.

Percy frowned. "Yeah, I'm not too fond of caves. Can we just talk out here?"

 **[No.]**

He winced. "Well, guess I'll suck it up. Mind if I get the blood off my arms? The smell is just— _ugh_. Not the worst I've ever smelled, true, but that isn't a good point of comparison."

Tiamat nodded. **[I'd prefer you clean up before stepping foot inside. I try to keep my house as clean as possible.]**

Percy silently thanked her. He touched the tip of his beautiful glowing sword with something. Tiamat watched, rapt, as it shrunk into what she thought was some kind of stick. She looked closer and noted it was actually a pen.

 **[Interesting.]**

"Magic," he shrugged. Crouching, he submerged his hands in the lake's dark water. He cleaned much of the blood from his hands and arms, though some spots of green still tinged his elbows. When he was done, he stood up and flicked his wrists.

Tiamat's jowls quivered as every last drop of water was shucked from his skin. **[How—how did you do that?]**

"What? The water thing?" Percy ran a thumb over the tip of his nose. "I'm a half-blood. We can do stuff like that. Pretty neat."

With the scent of iron and acid gone from her nostrils, Tiamat once again focused on the familiar stench coming from the boy's body. It took her only a moment to recall.

 _Azazel is going to pay for playing_ _me_.

 **[Child, look at me,]** Tiamat demanded his attention.

"Uh, I am?"

While he stood confused, she took the opportunity to dive into the wellspring of his brain, intent on finding the answers she needed.

* * *

 **Part III —** **Tiamat — 23 February**

* * *

Perseus Jackson was his true name, and from what she'd garnered from his thoughts, Tiamat knew he was the latest child Poseidon had sired. Other thoughts—memories of warmth, of the color blue, of happiness and love and guilt—those fleeting emotions and fragments of recollection that she had no need for, she pushed them to the side, continuing her assault on his mind.

There were several things in his head that made her pause. She caught sight of Olympus in the wrong place. She saw Nyx and Tartarus, quite different from what she remembered. She connected to a place where Titans attacked, with thousands of monsters braying for demigod blood, with a scarred boy hosting the essence of Kronos whose intent focused on felling the gods who wronged him. She watched as things happened in the human realm that couldn't have happened without her previous and explicit knowledge.

Zeus and Poseidon were prepared for war when the sun took longest to set.

Demigods took the weight of the sky from Atlas, and lived to speak of it.

Giants rose to oppose the gods.

Gaea prepared to end humanity.

Perseus Jackson nearly strangled the physical form of despair with her tears at the edge of the universe.

Tiamat wanted to pry more, needing to see what it was that caused those apocryphal memories floating in the boy's mind. Unfortunately, she was stopped dead in her tracks. A dense burst of purple-black eldritch energy sent her reeling out of Perseus Jackson's mind. Being so forcefully ejected staggered her entire body, her thick muscles cording and straining against the locking of her joints. Dark spots ebbed into her vision, like flies skittering across her pupils.

"Really? Was that necessary?" Tiamat heard the boy's clipped voice and immediately knew she'd be faced with an angry demigod once her vision returned. "Why do goddesses have a knack for messing with my brain?"

 **[I was curious about** — **]**

" _Ask_ next time," he snapped. "You have questions? Great! Everybody does. But that doesn't mean _they_ get to go poking around in my head, got it? If _they_ don't get the privilege, _you_ don't either."

Tiamat's proper faculties came back to her as the boy sighed. She felt a rumble build from indignation at being admonished by a child. It climbed up from her stomach and boiled in her throat, but she held it back, wise enough in knowing she was the offending party, and that she would feel the same way if someone else dared to force their way into _her_ mind.

In fact, he even handled the situation quite well, Tiamat would say. Yes, he was clearly affronted by her actions, but he hadn't done anything else except reprimand her in a way she might hesitantly call condescending.

Still, she wasn't about to admit her fault so readily. Tiamat didn't deign to apologize. **[Then, if you'd be so agreeable, I have questions. We can talk inside my home.]**

Perseus Jackson merely gave her a look of the utmost remoteness she was sure he could muster. "Still with the cave? You hoarding any gold in there?"

 **[Maybe I am.]** Tiamat gestured her head toward the slightly elevated entrance. **[Would you care to find out?]**

The boy stared at her for a long while. For some time, Tiamat thought he lost track of his mind, or simply lost his interest in their conversation altogether, but eventually, he focused back on her and raised his shoulders in a casual display of his indifference.

"Lead on." He glanced over her body, then frowned when he looked at the entrance to her home. "You're a bit too big to fit, aren't you?"

Tiamat, already aware that her natural form was unsuitable for entering the cavern, drew on the raw liquid power that swirled inside of her, dredging it up from the chasmic stores that amounted to the crux of her self. Viscous as her energy seemed at times, it could percolate through her person so easily. Sometimes, she felt it could have been mistaken for an essence not dissimilar to water.

It only took a moment of contention to pull her vast power and mold her body into something more accessible for the boy. When taking on the shape of a human, she reached only a fraction of the height she normally did, and indeed, she stood to be even shorter than the boy across from her.

"Uh . . . " the boy stared at the body she'd adopted.

"I'm sure this is better, right?" Tiamat asked him, shifting her weight onto one leg impatiently as her hands found her hips. The top of her head would only reach his nose, she noted, idly amused at how the situation had called for a reversal of their previous stature.

"I didn't realize you could turn into a human," he muttered. "But, listen, it's gonna be kinda awkward if you don't wanna use clothes. For me, that is."

"Humans and their proprieties," Tiamat sighed lowly. "I have plenty of clothes inside. Believe me, I've visited the human realm more than enough to understand how baring oneself is seen as 'indecent' rather than natural. The sooner we get going, the sooner you can be free of your self-imposed awkwardness."

"Great, let's go then." He looked at the cave, then back at her, then at the cave again. "Sorry for . . . staring."

Tiamat rolled her eyes—one of her favorite human expressions for the sheer utility it afforded in so many situations. "I'm not sure that's true. I don't care if you see me like this—and, in fact—feel free to examine at your leisure. But please get over your embarrassment. I won't tolerate stuttering from _you_ , Perseus Jackson."

"That something else you dug up from my head?" His tone, wry, left Tiamat with the impression that he was still vexed due to her actions. "Look, the only people who call me by my full name are the guys out to kill me, and even then it's kind of rare. I'd rather keep it that way, so just call me Percy. Unless you're out for blood. At that point, though, it really won't matter what you call me."

Tiamat agreed. She stooped down to gather her lost treasure, running her soft human fingers along the length of the wood. "Fine. Now, we can talk while we walk. Let's start simple . . . where _exactly_ did you come from?"

At the end of the day, Tiamat was left feeling that maybe nothing else could surprise her anymore.

* * *

 **Part IV — Azazel — 23 February**

* * *

Azazel stared at Percy with no small amount of disbelief. Off to the side, Penemue was sliding out of her chair and clutching her stomach, laughter echoing throughout his office as she fell to the floor.

"Come again?" Azazel asked, almost positive that he and Penemue had heard wrong.

Percy, for his part, simply gave an indifferent shrug. "Yeah. She, uh, turned me down. She'll help you with her research, and in return, she wants to take me out with her to look for her other treasures. That said, she's not going to train me."

"That's a r-real foolproof plan you got there, Azazel!" Penemue said, shaking her head as she kept laughing. "Real f-fucking foolproof. God, that's just way too funny. You were so—so fucking confident! And—oh my god—it just didn't work out the way you wanted, huh? So much for your great b-brainchild!"

"It—it should have worked," Azazel kept staring at them from his side of the desk. He opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, fighting to find the proper words for the situation. "I don't get it. It was foolproof."

Penemue cackled and slapped Percy's knee a few times. "That means t-this guy here is the perfect f-fool! He eluded all of your calculations for human error and managed to fuck it up so bad, that Tiamat didn't even give him a trial period before sending him back."

Azazel sighed. "But that doesn't make any sense! If Percy pissed her off, then she'd have just killed him. There's no way he could have gotten out of there without so much as a scratch."

"Well, you guys never let me finish telling you the story," Percy rolled his eyes.

"Enlighten us, then," Penemue suggested, crawling back onto her seat. "I'm curious now, too. Dragons don't typically take kindly to people insulting them or otherwise irritating them. Knowing you—"

"It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?"

"It was like this: Tiamat said she couldn't help me, not that she wouldn't. I'm going to quote her here. ' _I can't do anything for you. Did you want training? Too bad. You're a demigod; your very nature is of water. I can't strap weights to your legs and arms and expect you to move the Red Sea, now can I? No, I can't. All I can do is offer you advice. That's the best you'll get from me, I'm afraid, so be grateful I'm even bothering to explain something so obvious, all right?_ ' And that's the gist of it."

"Harsh. I mean, I get that it's your own burden to carry and all that, but still, when she puts it like that . . ." Penemue gave a low hum, obviously put out. "What was her advice?"

Percy laughed. "She told me I should think more highly of myself."

"That's all?"

"More or less."

Azazel was torn between celebrating the victory of science and the defeat of his pride. Yes, he'd gotten Tiamat to agree to help him with his research. That was all well and good. But, despite that win, his plan had failed to give him results for its latter goal. Percy was left without a teacher.

Not to mention Tiamat had added a clause to the arrangement on a whim. Azazel clicked his tongue. He asked, "What was this about Tiamat taking you with her to find her old treasures?"

"Well," Percy hummed, "you know how Tiamat goes out into the human world from time to time?"

Azazel nodded.

"Yeah, she uses that time to search for her treasures while also keeping up with human ingenuity," Percy said. "I'm not too sure what she has in mind, though it sounded like she just wanted someone to keep her company. I told her she'd have to talk to you about it since you were my boss. I think she's planning on visiting in the next couple of days."

A visit? Azazel wouldn't be opposed. Maybe he could get some data sooner than expected. "I suppose that's fine, then. With us cutting back on our missions, this might be good for you. Keep your nose out of trouble."

Percy didn't look too convinced. "Maybe."

"That aside," Penemue nudged her shoulder against Percy's, "are you okay with going out with Tiamat like that? If she isn't going to be training you, then you've got nothing to gain, right?"

"Eh." He heaved his shoulders. "She made it sound like it could be fun. Travel the world. See the sights. No offense."

"None taken," Azazel said. "You're a young adult. It's understandable that you'd have a bit of wanderlust. I'm fine with you going out with Tiamat. Just be careful. The Grigori is still relying on you to keep our name intact."

"Sure. Careful is my middle name."

"Says the guy who fought Crom Cruach while on vacation."

"Point taken," Percy said wryly. He looked at the analog clock hanging behind the desk. "Uh, do you mind if I get going? I promised Le Fay we'd hang out. I'm beat from going through the Forest of Familiars. Too many monsters."

"Ah, youth," Penemue sighed. "I remember when I was still young and beautiful. Good times."

 _Ha! As if you'd let yourself look even close to your age!_ Azazel almost scoffed aloud but managed to keep it hidden.

Percy asked, "How old are you, like, exactly?"

The room went silent.

Penemue waved her hand loosely. "Old. I'm really, really old, kiddo."

"Right," he stuttered, blushing faintly. "Sorry for bringing it up."

She chuckled a little. "It's not a big deal. I'm not going to pretend that my time has long since passed. At this point, it's just a matter of waiting for the right time to die, I guess."

Azazel didn't voice it, but he agreed with her. He felt the same way more often than not, the feeling only growing stronger with each year that passed, a nagging feeling that told him he was doing more harm than good with his antiquated ideas.

It was some time before anybody said anything else. Percy gave both of them a strange stare. He cleared his throat. "I'm . . . I'm just gonna get out of your hair." Without waiting for a response, he got up and hurried to the door, sparing a last glance behind him before slipping out into the waiting room.

When he had gone, Azazel looked at Penemue. "Any idea what that was about?"

"Maybe . . ."

"Mind sharing your thoughts?"

Penemue grunted softly. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I feel the same way," Azazel admitted. "We're old news. Don't have the decency to die and hand the reins over to the new generation, as we probably should."

"That's true. I was more concerned about what Percy would think about us saying it, though. I mean, after what he's been through, it probably isn't a good idea to be so morbid. Especially if we're trying to help him get back into the swing of things."

Azazel thought about it for a second. In the end, he had to agree with her again. Maybe it would have been better to save the self-defeatism for a time when there wasn't a kid recovering from severe bereavement trauma right in front of them. Percy was strong-willed, that was true, but he didn't handle his stress well, and while he might not admit it, Azazel figured that Percy still felt a little guilty about what happened to his world.

"I think you might be right," he said after mulling it over.

"I'll go talk to him later." Penemue glanced at the door. "Make sure he doesn't take things the wrong way."

Weaving his fingers together, Azazel took a few seconds to watch his subordinate. Her eyes wandered from the door when she noticed he hadn't responded.

"What?" she asked.

"I was wondering . . . him?"

Penemue hummed noncommittally. "What about 'him'? You'll have to be specific."

"Are you two—"

"Friends? Yeah, I think we are. He's fun."

"I see." Azazel smiled vacantly. "Be careful."

Penemue returned his smile, its edge sharp enough to cut through bone. "Don't worry about it. He's in good hands."

* * *

 **End Chapter**


	7. VII

**A/N: Edits as of 3/3/19.**

 **Chapters 1 through 5 have been edited to build better toward the themes I have in place and later events. Chapter 6 has been replaced by something new, as has chapter 7 (this chapter). The old chapter 6 was split and made into chapters 8 and 9.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or High School DxD.**

* * *

7\. Ain't Like That Now

* * *

 **Part I**

* * *

If I described the weeks that wound through the rest of winter and which pushed well into spring, I might say "chaotic" best suited my time spent. "Egregiously exciting" might have been just as good.

Of course, that was only taking me into account. Vali, Bikou, Kuroka, Arthur, and Le Fay hadn't been quite as active as I had, considering they didn't have a Dragon King taking them along on zany adventures around the globe.

So, yeah, Vali's team probably wouldn't describe their springtime months in the same way I did. I'm pretty sure most of them envied me.

Again, that was all Tiamat's fault. As per her stipulations on helping Azazel with his research, I'd been made to go out and help her find the treasures she'd lost so long ago. It wasn't like she needed me to help or anything. I got the feeling that she was just tired of having done it alone for so long.

We'd only gone out twice throughout the entirety of spring, but both times had been novel experiences.

The first excursion we made was into the Gobi Desert. This probably doesn't need to be said, but I'll say it anyway: deserts _suck_ —too many scorpions. Too many scorpion gods, to be exact. We'd spent around three weeks in the Gobi Desert. I'll never be able to look at sand the same way.

Our second outing had been to the Yucatan, where we'd been cornered by a group of angry Mesoamerican gods who wanted nothing more than to ritualistically disembowel us after Tiamat managed to make them angry. That whole mess had been sorted out by playing a ball game, of all things. Thankfully, Tiamat and I had gotten a bit of help from some of the more good-natured gods in that group; the Mayan rain god, Chaac, had been a huge help to make sure we kept our organs _inside_ our bodies where they belonged.

However, apart from those two times, the rest of my spring had been spent hanging out with my friends. It was nice. We relaxed and generally had fun.

I'd learned that Penemue was a huge fan of putting on theater plays of monster stories.

Azazel was an avid gamer, and was playing with Vali, Le Fay, and I any chance he got.

Bikou loved sports, so we set up plenty of mock baseball matches.

Kuroka was . . . lazy. She also liked playing video games, though, so that gave us something to share.

Even with the time we spent together, I knew they were all waiting for the next big battle to come along. Vali trained harder. Bikou trained longer. Arthur trained smarter.

Unsurprisingly, Le Fay had taken the lack of action the best. I think she just appreciated all of us being together. She was the kind of person who didn't like seeing her close friends and family getting hurt. Well, I was that way too. But as a demigod, I'd come to accept that what I wanted and what would actually happen were often incompatible.

It was pretty funny. I still remember, after I'd finished my first quest and stopped World War III, Luke had asked if I missed it. The thrill, I knew he'd meant; the danger and the sense of freedom only something like a life-or-death journey across the United States could provide—that's what Luke had been referring to.

My answer, of course, had been that I _did_ miss the feeling of always being a hair's breadth away from dying.

Back then, putting it into words hadn't been possible for me. Annabeth, Grover, and I had finished the quest on June 21, the summer solstice. That left me with over two months of summer camp left, which had been fun, don't get me wrong, but the whole time I had been left feeling . . . strangely unsatisfied.

With more experience under my belt, I could now say what always seemed to bother me, no matter how much I tried to argue otherwise.

A deep, totally illogical side of me craved the feeling of my victories over danger. Maybe that wasn't so strange. Everybody liked to win.

And maybe—just maybe—I'd never quite gotten over the sense of self-satisfaction that rose up inside me when I did something heroic. I didn't care as much when strangers thought about me as a hero or anything. But when the people I cared about did . . . it was a different story, those times. It wasn't wrong for me to like the feeling, right?

I found myself wondering that very thing as the relatively inoffensive springtime moved aside to make room for a blistering summer. Pretty much everywhere, it was going to be hot.

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

"Seventeen, Azazel. In June, we lost seventeen Sacred Gear possessors from our European institutes alone!" Penemue slapped the long, espresso-colored, boat-shaped conference table. The sharp noise that came from her hand meeting the wood was final. "Open your eyes. We can't keep sitting here, thumbs up our asses. We've known for _months_ now that the Grigori has been coming apart from the lower ranks' seams.

"The fiasco with the Red Dragon Emperor should have been proof enough. But now? Now, we're losing people left, right, center, and out our fucking ears. Kokabiel is missing, and he's our best bet at finding out exactly what's going on. We've got fuck-all to show for our passivity!"

The other leaders of the Grigori were seated around the table, with Azazel at its head. He watched them with candid eyes. Shemhaza, the next-in-command, sat just to Azazel's right, looking about as placid as I'd ever seen him. I mean, from what I knew about Shemhaza, he was a pretty mellow dude. We had never talked at length, though, so I couldn't really give a final call on his personality.

"Though she was crass, I have to agree with Penemue." The next-next-in-command, a buff and stern guy with dark hair called Barakiel, said, "We've been seeing our numbers dwindle without taking proper countermeasures. The Hero Faction's ideologies are seducing Sacred Gear users whom we've trained. An entire generation of our kin whom we've passed our bile for the Angels and Devils clamor for war again, despite our strength being low compared to our enemies'. The situation is dire. And yet, what have we done to improve it? Where has patience gotten us, Azazel?"

"It's kept us alive," Azazel said calmly. "As has our passivity. If we'd been any more aggressive during Christianity's Great War, fewer of us would be here today."

I looked on from the back of the room, leaning against the wall adjacent to the door. The meeting room was plain except for the very nice desk. A dark gray carpet beneath us gave no cushion or softness, and the walls were eggshell white.

"I'm not saying we re-ignite the entire war." Penemue took a deep breath to keep herself calm. "But we need to do something to show that we aren't as weak as everyone seems to think we are. The Hero Faction has attacked three of our research institutes in the human realm. That's real fuckin' bold of them. It'll only escalate as time goes on and as we let them do it without fighting back."

"And what do you think we can do about it?" Azazel's sharp question drew the tension even higher. His expression remained calm, but something was underlying the words he'd spoken, and it reminded me of ice. "We don't know when they are going to strike. We don't know their base of operations. We've got nothing to go off of. Shemhaza found some information that points to Cao Cao, wielder of the True Longinus, as having possible connections to Śakra. No matter how you slice it, that's bad news."

Sahariel raised his hand but spoke without bothering to wait. "If anybody cares, I made a breakthrough with my research."

Everybody turned to him. Barakiel, stoic as ever, asked, "What is it this time? More moon dust that you can transmute into regular dust?"

"No," Sahariel frowned at the jibe. "I've finally done it."

Azazel's eyes went wide. "You crazy bastard. Don't tell me you—!"

Now, Saharial was grinning. He cleaned his thick glasses quickly. "Yes. I would like to thank you all for your continued support. Thousands of years of work have finally resulted in sweet fruits being born."

"Holy shit," Penemue gaped at him. "You did it."

"Incredible!" Armaros applauded. "Splendid! Magnificent! Your dedication and subsequent success give me hope that my own research will be as fruitful as yours was!"

I had no clue what they were talking about. In fact, I wasn't even sure what the heck I was doing in the room with them. Azazel had called me in to join the leaders' meeting, though he'd never told me why. I'm sure there was something important he had for me, but I wanted them to get on with it. There was a lot of subtext I'm sure I missed due to being a total outsider.

That was fine by me. As long as I was kept relatively in the loop, I didn't mind missing a few details here and there. These guys had thousands of years worth of history between them. I'd been with them for about nine months.

 _Wait,_ I did a few quick mental calculations in my head. _Woah, I'm going to be eighteen in a month._

I'd be considered an adult in America. That was a weird thought. Back when I was still the child of the Great Prophecy, for a little while during the summer there, I had resigned myself to dying once I turned sixteen. I mean, there hadn't been many ways I'd interpreted _"The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap"_ and _"A single choice shall end his days"_ back then. The prophecy had definitely sounded like I was the one being voted off the island before I could even hit my second year of high school.

Now? Well, I was a little over thirty days from reaching adulthood. How many half-bloods could say that? Not many, I knew. Then again, a lot of my friends back at camp probably would have gotten there if I hadn't let Setne break the universe. So that sucks.

Tuning back in to the conversation at hand, I noticed everyone had gotten over their astonishment of Sahariel's research. Azazel was talking about how they would deal with Kokabiel. He said, "I've heard whispers. Some of the Excaliburs have gone missing from the Church of England and the Roman Catholic Church. While both sides initially blamed the Eastern Orthodox Church and, oddly enough, the Coptic Orthodoxy, new information has spread that indicates an outsider in the matter. From what I understand, a handful of exorcists from the Greater Communion are being sent out to Asia."

Barakiel looked at the table, holding his chin. "I see. And our last reports put Kokabiel in Japan, correct?"

Tamiel adjusted the circlet he always wore in his blond hair. "Perhaps it would be prudent to negotiate something with the Greater Communion? A trade, of sorts. We can send our own people to keep theirs out of harm's way. We return the Excaliburs. As payment, we ask they turn a blind eye to one of our own _leaders_ trying to start the war again."

"Asking the Greater Communion wouldn't get us a response this century," Penemue dismissed derisively. "A fucking swamp of bureaucratic bullshit, that's all the Communion is. They hardly ever agree on anything. Too many branches. The tree gets weighed down if they aren't sheared off properly."

"Straight to the Vatican?"

"Zealots, the lot of them. They'll never accept our help."

"Then, the Church of England."

"We might have better luck with them," Penemue agreed, "but if they're working with another group, we'll be dead in the water. Right back to step one."

"The problem is our lack of information," Azazel said. "We have next to no knowledge on the finer details of this whole issue. How many exorcists? Who are they? Who sent them? Are they planning on destroying the Excaliburs or retrieving them? Where is Kokabiel going? Why now?"

Shemhaza stood up. "I'll work on digging up something useful."

Azazel nodded. "Good. The rest of you, I want ideas! Vali's team is already looking around Japan. I sent Slash Dog and company to England. Hopefully, they'll learn something about the theft there. So you lot need to brainstorm. Percy, go!"

I blinked as everybody turned to face me. "Uh . . ."

"Good enough! Penemue, go!"

"Shinto?" she asked rather than stated.

"Connection to Japan, but reclusive. I'll consider it. Barakiel?"

Barakiel frowned even deeper than normal. "Devils. Sitri, Gremory."

Azazel hummed thoughtfully. "I could see that. He uses the Excaliburs to kill those two, claims Heaven let him borrow the swords. Sirzechs and Serafall would certainly be personally invested. And with two of the Great Satans wanting war, Devil society would rally behind, especially as two of the remaining pillar heirs would have just died. That could very well be his plan. Crazy bastard."

"All us Cadres are crazy bastards," Penemue said, a dangerous smirk fitting her face. "Kokabiel's the one with a hard-on for war. The rest of us have our own problems."

Everybody present except for me nodded their heads unapologetically. Azazel said, "I'll have Vali check around Kuoh Town, along with the encompassing Tokyo prefecture. Might even have them keep a closer eye on the entire Kanto region."

"We can't discount the possibility that Kokabiel isn't planning anything nasty," Armaros rested his forehead on the table. "Of course, that may be a stretch to hope at this point."

"There's also the possibility that Kokabiel has done his preliminary scouting for whatever plans he may have," Barakiel's fingers clenched as he spoke, "which means he may not be in Japan anymore, nor will he return until the time is right for him to set said plan into motion."

"True enough," Azazel conceded. He looked my way briefly, then pushed himself out of his chair. "All right, people. We aren't in a good way. I think everyone here agrees." Nods followed his words. "That said, I have the utmost faith in each of your respective abilities. Let's do our best in these trying times, shall we? Barakiel, stop by my office later. I'm sure you want to discuss some things regarding the safety of your daughter."

* * *

 **Part III**

* * *

Everyone left the conference room not long after, their familiarity with Azazel giving them insight enough to know when he was done talking to them and wanted them to scatter.

The original Fallen Angel Cadres were family. They understood each other like nobody else could; Kokabiel being part of that family was another reason why they felt confident enough in assuming he was ready to start a war. Any hesitancy they had was just benefit-of-the-doubt on Kokabiel's part, a hope, in ways, that he might be less of a warmonger than they all figured.

I could understand that. For a long time at camp, during our ongoing struggle against Kronos and the Titans, the subject of _spies_ had been brought up too often. I hated thinking any friend of mine, no matter how removed, could betray the people alongside us. Realistically speaking, I'd known how easy it would be for some half-bloods to be taken in by Kronos' words, but I just hadn't wanted to believe it was possible.

To this day, I had a hard time reconciling the spy being _Silena_ , of all people. It wasn't my place to judge, of course; everybody had different circumstances for being manipulated. Luke was a charismatic guy, even without Kronos whispering in his ear, so it wasn't hard to believe that he'd managed to start blackmailing Silena. And once she'd gotten roped in for a little while, he hadn't let her go. I suppose she'd figured the only way she could make it right was by doing something heroically suicidal. Charging a full-grown Lydian drakon fit that bill.

I hoped Silena and Beckendorf had been happy in Elysium for the time they were reunited.

Azazel sat down again at the head of the table. "I assume you're still here for a reason, and not just to admire the mahogany."

"It's great quality," I said.

"Imported from Belize."

"Very nice."

"Very expensive," he corrected. "But, alas, I have a propensity for the exotic and the expensive. Just look at all of those Sacred Gears I managed to bring together under one roof."

"You mean the Sacred Gears we've been hemorrhaging?" I asked.

"Hey now," Azazel frowned. "There's no point in reminding me less than an hour after Penemue chewed me out."

"Sorry." I did feel bad about the situation. Azazel had probably worked hard to get the Grigori to where it was today. I knew he didn't like being a leader all that much. The only reason he did it was because, for the most part, he still felt obligated to help the organization. "So, why was it so important that I was here for this? Why didn't you send me out with Vali or Tobio? I'm better suited for that kind of work rather than sitting on the sidelines."

"Yeah, well, while I agree that you're more of a field agent than a desk jockey, there's one thing you didn't account for."

"What?"

" _You_."

I looked at him flatly. "This old cliché? 'The power you know not'? C'mon, you've gotta have something better than that."

Azazel seemed amused, and said, "Think back on what's happened around you. Your arrival, your first day, Romania, Pennsylvania, recently with Tiamat . . ."

"I don't follow."

"Kid, whenever you're involved in something, it tends to go in a way only those with a decent understanding of the meta-narrative can predict."

"Oh, I get it," I said.

Unfortunately, I didn't get it at all.

Still, it was smarter to agree with him now and spare myself a long-winded explanation that I figured would still end up going over my head.

"Good. Then you understand the reasoning. Knowing you, you'd have been fighting Kokabiel over Tokyo in broad daylight right about now."

Was that what he was talking about? I guess it made sense in an esoteric kind of way. Fighting Vali, fighting those Hero Faction grunts, fighting Cao Cao, getting torn down by Crom Cruach, the scorpion monsters and the Mesoamerican gods . . . I could see where he was coming from. Trouble liked to follow me.

"Apart from that," I said, "why did you have me sit in on this meeting? I don't make the decisions around here."

"It almost sounds like your complaining."

"Don't get me wrong, but I'd hate to have any of your jobs. Especially _yours_." I shrugged apologetically. "All work and no play makes Percy a dull boy."

Azazel sighed and leaned his head over the back of his chair. "Yeah, do me a favor kid, don't remind me, okay? Also, don't refer to yourself in the third-person. It's creepy."

"Sorry."

"Right. Before I answer your question, let me ask one of my own." Azazel smiled at me in a wholly suspicious way. "What did you take away from our little war council? Anything you're going to mull over for the next few days?"

I pinched my face tight. "Uh . . . trim the branches of a tree?"

"And do you think that was the important piece to take from all our incessant blathering?"

"No?"

"That was a trick question." Azazel gave me his trademark smirk. "All of what we discussed was the reason I wanted you to be here—not the message itself in a literal sense. The words couldn't have mattered less. The rationale, on the other hand, is something I hope you picked up on."

"The rationale?" Not for the first time, I wondered what Azazel was getting at. He always liked to control our conversations but never made it easy for me to figure out what it was he was saying until the very end. Does that sound annoying? Well, it _is_ annoying.

"Right," he said. Noticing my expression, he continued, "Think about it. Did it seem to you that we rushed and made any rash decisions in the period we talked?"

I slowly shook my head. "Are you telling me I'm—what?—too impulsive or something? Sorry to say, you aren't the first."

"While I'm not arguing your impulsiveness, I'm also not saying that your devil-may-care attitude is necessarily a bad thing. All I want you to understand is that there are two sides to _every_ conversation, including the one we just wrapped up. I mean, look at Penemue. She wanted to take _some_ kind of action despite not knowing anything. I mean, she knows _some_ things, but not _everything_ , you know?"

"I'd say she knows a lot." My comment drifted between us for some time, and I saw Azazel's eyes track me for a few seconds with a scary amount of scrutiny before he switched to a more lackadaisical expression.

"Compared to you, she's a sage," Azazel agreed. "The age gap is too obvious in that way. I'd even go as far as to say that she's better versed than anyone else in the Grigori when it comes to language and communication. She's much more deliberate than she lets on."

"I'll take your word for it," I said noncommittally. It sounded like Azazel was criticizing Penemue, and I didn't want to get involved with any of the drama between two people like them. It wouldn't stop me entirely if that's what it eventually came down to, but if I could defuse the tension before it even reached Penemue, all the better. So I changed the subject. "I'm still not too sure what you mean by 'rationale' by the way."

"Let me be even less unequivocal, then. After hearing what we had to say, and after observing the way we did things, have you started to re-think the way you approach any of your conflicts?"

For some reason, I got the sense that I'd been asked another trick question. There was something about Azazel's posturing and tone that told me as much. "Are you asking me to be smarter about picking my fights?"

"I'm surprised you came to that conclusion," Azazel said. "I mean, it's the wrong conclusion to draw ultimately, but given what I've been telling you, I'm surprised nonetheless."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered.

"No, Percy, I have faith enough in you on the subject of conflict resolution. You may not be an expert, but you seem to have a better head on your shoulders than people like Vali or Bikou or Kuroka."

"How do you figure that? I've started plenty of fights."

"Anybody can start a fight." Azazel deftly interwove his fingers. "Plenty of people start fights they can't finish. All that matters is the person able to finish the fight. The other guy is irrelevant. There's no such thing as fate when it comes to conflict."

"What's up with that advice?"

"Depressing, isn't it?"

"Very. I'm not even sure it's good advice."

"Well, that's life kid. The longer you live, the more you start to realize all the unfair little aspects life has to offer."

"I'm glad I chose not to become a god, then."

"You're missing out on all the harems."

I smiled wryly. "That's fine. Your tastes and mine don't exactly match up, y'know?"

Azazel leaned forward. "All right, kid. Between you and me . . . would you _really_ be opposed to having a gaggle of beautiful women vying for your attention, throwing themselves at you to do as you please with them? Don't you want to be a cult leader?"

"Sounds like a headache waiting to happen," I said.

"Evasion, evasion. Gimme a straight answer, kid."

"That _was_ my straight answer. Sometimes, it felt like I could barely keep _Annabeth_ happy. You expect me to do the same for five, six, or seven girls? Dude, I'm a demigod, not a miracle worker."

"Ah, I see. That's too bad. At least this gives me the excuse to enlighten you further on the wonders of women. Don't worry, as your employer and close friend, I'll do my best to show you the path toward finding a life in paradise. There are many steps. The first is admitting that you are worth at least one person's love."

"Right," I moved off the wall and sat down on the other side of the table. The polished wood reflected plenty of light from above, and I could make out some of my face in the glossy finish. "Well, I'd like to think as much. Can't say for sure, though."

"I can set you up with someone if you want."

The offer tempted me for a second, but something twisted in my gut; a pang of ugly guilt slithered out from the pit of my stomach and crawled up my throat. "Maybe not right now. Thanks, though."

Azazel tapped the side of his entwined hands on the table a few times. He squinted at me, then relaxed. "Right. Good. Anyway, what I wanted to talk about was your progress."

The way we were seated and his posture almost made it feel like I was at some kind of interview. "What'd you want to know?"

Smoothly, he said, "Are you satisfied with how you are now?"

"Satisfied? Well, yeah, I suppose I'd say I'm pretty satisfied at this point." At least, I wanted to think I was. It'd sound bad if I admitted otherwise.

"Really?" He hummed in thought. "A few months ago, you seemed to be brimming with a need for revenge against Crom Cruach. I was just a little worried that maybe you'd given up."

Only slightly offended, I said, "Nekhbet wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I gave up."

 _Too true,_ Nekhbet said.

"Can you beat Crom?" Azazel asked after a few seconds of silence.

I thinned my mouth. "Next time I fight him, we'll find out."

"You sound indifferent."

"All I can do is play it smart. And, in the end . . . even Crom has liquid inside of him, doesn't he?"

"Oh, you'd go that far?" Azazel shot me a razor-sharp smirk. "Pretty terrifying."

I bit the inside of my lip, chewing through some of the flesh there. I didn't cut deep enough with my teeth to draw blood. "Maybe not for my own life. Some things aren't meant to be controlled. I'm not gonna let someone I care about die because of that promise, though, you and Crom can bet on that."

With a careless nod, he said, "Well, I suppose that's reassuring, to some extent. I'm a little worried about you including me with Crom Cruach in that last sentence, though. By chance, have I made myself a target for your ire?"

"Not yet," I joked.

He breathed out a false sigh of relief. "Good, good. You can be quite scary when you look at me with those cold eyes. If you'd set your sights on taking me out, I'm not sure I'd be able to live. My doctor says I need to cut down on my external stressors, which meant I would've had to cut you out of my life. I'm sure you'd be in a better place anyway."

"Why does it sound like you're planning on putting me down?"

"You know, I had a Cerberus once . . ."

I scratched the area beneath my nostrils. "Uh-huh. Are we done here?"

Azazel waved me away. "Sure, scram. Just be ready for a shake-up in the coming days. It's gonna be hot."

* * *

 **Part IV**

* * *

Bikou and Kuroka returned from Japan at the end of the week, after kicking Kokabiel's feathery butt.

Well, Vali had kicked his butt, while the other two had been waiting in the rear just in case Kokabiel had tried to escape. Part of me figured Kuroka was just being her typically lazy self.

"What about Vali, Arthur, and Le Fay?" I asked. Bikou and I relaxed in one of the headquarters' pool areas, letting our muscles melt away in a roiling hot tub. "What happened to them?"

My morning had started normally. I'd just finished eating breakfast when Vali's team (sans the Pendragon siblings and Vali himself) appeared through a magic circle right in the middle of our usual lounge. Kuroka and Bikou had immediately asked me to make them something to eat, and afterward, Kuroka had wandered off somewhere, which meant Bikou and I were left to figure out what to do by our lonesomes.

In the end, he'd insisted on taking it easy for a while in the hot tub, and I went along with him to figure out how the mission had gone.

Bikou cracked one eye open to glance at me. "Hm? Ah, those guys? Well, Azazel was hanging out in the area, so Vali stayed behind in Kuoh to deliver Kokabiel. Arthur and Le Fay went off to London to follow leads on the Anglican Communion. Those Excaliburs couldn't have been stolen by Kokabiel alone. Someone was in on it, you know? Since those two have the best connections in England, Azazel sent 'em to help Tobio's team."

"That makes sense," I said. "So you and Kuroka were dead weight and came back here to waste time?"

"Hey, hey, that's a pretty cruel way to put it, don't ya think? It's not like I haven't been working my butt off searching for Kokabiel this last week. He was all over the place, trying to throw us off. If it hadn't been for Le Fay's magic, I'm sure we'd have gotten lost more than once. Hunting a rogue Cadre is hard work!"

"I'm sure. Don't get me wrong; I've got respect for you guys. Did you see any action?"

"Eh, kinda. A few of Kokabiel's followers tried to stop us every here and there, but none of them were worth much trouble. I would've thought Kokabiel of all people would've had some strong guys with him. Too bad. Our first real mission in months and there's nothin' to write home about!"

"Gotta take breaks when you can get them," I shrugged at his pout.

"Hm . . ." Doubtfully, Bikou closed his eyes again. "Maybe you're right. Still, sitting around here doing nothing is so boring. Hey, hey, tell me about the last time you went out with Lady Tiamat, will ya? I missed the story, and it was all Le Fay could talk about for the rest of that day. Must've been one hell of a ride."

My eyebrow twitched at remembering how Tiamat had provoked those Mesoamerican gods.

Was that how people felt whenever I aggravated a god in my old world? It was a depressing thought. It was stressful beyond belief.

"Sure. Well, the first thing you need to know is that I didn't even know about the gods in the Yucatan until—"

A disturbance in the water made me look to my left. There, Penemue was making herself comfortable in the tub with us.

It didn't take me long to notice something different about her. Namely, her purple hair, once able to reach her waist, had been cut so that it would probably only fall just below her shoulders, and she'd tied it back in a low ponytail. She'd kept her bangs, though they were mostly swept to the left, just a bit off of covering her left eye.

Honestly, after seeing her with the same hairstyle for the better part of a year, the sudden change caught me by surprise, which is probably the only reason I noticed.

"Storytime?" she grinned. "I missed the specifics too, so if you don't mind filling me in . . . ?"

Bikou and I glanced at each other. I shrugged. "Okay. So, Tiamat and I—"

"This was the one from back in May, right?" Penemue asked.

"Yes," I made a face at her for interrupting me again. "Can I continue?"

"Hm? Dunno," Penemue grinned. "Can you?"

I rolled my eyes. "May I?"

She snickered. "May. Get it? Happened in _May_. Ah, nice. Okay, you may."

"Right," I barely stopped a laugh from choking me up. "Anyway—"

"Any- _may_?"

I gave her my best stone-faced glare. At least, I tried. In the end, though, the joke was so bad but so perfectly timed that I cracked a smile. I couldn't help it. After getting out a couple of short chuckles, I asked, "Are you gonna let me finish?"

"Maybe if you ask politely," she said haughtily. The gleam in her eye made me pause, and she cupped her cheek in one smooth motion. "If you say something like, ' _Please let me finish, Penemue!_ ' then I might consider it."

Her voice had changed into a lightly strained moan when she told me what she wanted to hear. I hardly noticed my eyes drifting down until they reached the start of her chest, which was covered by a black triangle top bikini. I mean, Penemue had always registered as undoubtedly gorgeous in my mind, and I'd seen plenty of girls in swimsuits over the years, but still . . .

 _Oh, no,_ Nehbet shook her head inside my head. _I'm not touching this one with a ten-foot pole. Unless it strictly interferes with your fighting capabilities, don't expect me to help with your romances._

 _Never asked you to, but thanks for that useless bit of information_. I tried to pretend I hadn't just been awkwardly staring at Penemue's chest by looking behind her, toward the edge of the hot tub. Unfortunately, when I looked back at her face, the faint crinkle of her eyes and pull of her mouth were clearly born out of satisfaction.

My face burned, but I decided to humor her, if only to stop her from making it worse. "Please . . ."

"Please . . . what?" she asked innocently. "You're going to have to speak up."

I opened my mouth, then glanced at Bikou, who was watching us with interest. He looked back at me expectantly.

Penemue cleared her throat.

"Well then!" Bikou stood up from his side of the tub. He grinned widely at us. "I'm just gonna hop-skip-skadoodle outta here. Percy, be sure to tell me . . . Later. Yeah, _mhm_ , tell me later, okay?"

Penemue watched Bikou leave. "Oh, we must have made him uncomfortable. That's too bad. These hot tubs are great for taking the edge off."

"Hold up, what's with all this 'we' business?" I could have taken the chance to scoot away, but, honestly, I didn't want to. So I didn't, instead waiting until she turned her strong purple gaze back to me. "I'm innocent in all this."

"You are innocent, aren't you?" she said with a gusty laugh. "It's pretty cute."

 _This is painful. I'm surprised you aren't carrying her off to your room. Truly, your force of will shan't be penetrated despite your carnal desires._ Nekhbet sighed dramatically. She added, _Much like Ms. Secretary, if you continue this way._

Frowning at Nekhbet, I said, _Give me more credit than that. She teases everyone._

 _I'm done talking to you about this. At least have the decency to pluck out your eyes. Better that as an excuse than the sudden onset myopic idiocy you cling to. Good day, sir! We will discuss this no further!_

With a shift of my weight, I ran my hands through my hair and sighed, frustrated.

"You okay?" Penemue asked. She pulled away, smoothing her bangs away from her eyes. I let myself watch. Her nails were immaculately filed and her skin looked flawless. She was every bit as tongue-tying as Aphrodite. It definitely didn't help that I found Penemue _way_ more pleasant to be around. "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No . . . uh, not really."

"Good," she smiled tepidly. The air between us lost its electric charge. I was a little disappointed. Penemue didn't seem to notice the difference. "I'm glad. So, I suppose now would be a good time to talk about my reason for being here, yeah?"

I cracked a smile of my own. "You mean it wasn't just to kick back and relax with me? That kind of stings."

Penemue's expression went from lukewarm to cautiously bemused. She looked at me oddly. "You're weird. No, maybe not so much. Either way—I come bearing gifts. News!"

Though I had no idea what she was muttering to herself before, I asked, "Good news, I hope?"

"No news is good news," she said. "Still, this isn't bad news, _per se_. Consider it neutral news. The 'Switzerland' of news, if you will. Swiss news. _Swiews._ That has a nice ring to it."

"Pretty good," I admitted. "Are you gonna make me guess about the _Swiews_ or . . . ?"

"Here's the long and short of it. Azazel's been in touch with the Angels and Devils since last night. There's going to be a meeting between the three factions to discuss the future of our combined people. Small stuff like that."

"Small stuff? What's big stuff for you, then?"

"Oh, you know, stuff like the apocalypse and whatnot. Y2K, Mayan prophecies, the [666], bored Caricatures of Ignobility, the Chargers' miserable '00 season offense. Stuff like that."

"Ah," I said dubiously. "What does the meeting have to do with anything?"

Penemue drifted around the tub, watching me as she switched seats every so often. "Azazel needs protection. Or so he claims. To that end"—Penemue pointed a finger-gun at me—"he chose _you_ to be one of his bodyguards."

"So that's it, huh?" I scratched my eyebrow. "When?"

"Sometime soon. That's all he told me, which must mean he isn't sure about a date himself."

"Wonderful. You said I was one of his guards. Who are the others?"

Penemue shrugged and pulled the trigger of her faux-pistol. I pretended to be hit in the heart, slowly sinking into the water as she laughed.

Once I got back up and she'd stopped shaking her head, she said, "If I had to guess—"

"You mean he didn't tell you?"

Now it was her turn to glare at me for interrupting. "If I had to guess . . . I'd expect Vali to be on with you. Maybe it'll just be you two. Ask Azazel if you want more of the juicy deets."

"Sure, thanks." I looked at the water.

A meeting between the Angels, Fallen Angels, and Devils? It sounded like trouble waiting to happen; shaking a bottle of soda and opening the cap might have been less messy than getting the three factions to cooperate. At least, that's what I'd been told by Azazel himself some time ago.

Hopefully, he'd been exaggerating. I wasn't really in the mood to be front-and-center to see a huge war break out. If the factions started to throw hands, I'm pretty sure it would be bigger than anything I'd experienced. At least, in terms of the scale rather than the stakes. I'd been in some pretty big fights, but from what I understood, the battlefields of the Great War had spanned entire cities, not just a few city blocks. Tens of thousands of people all trying to kill one another at once in a smorgasbord of magic, weapons, and fists.

Kind of terrifying, if I was being honest. Vali being at the meeting would only complicate things. I didn't know what Azazel was thinking. Sure, Vali took Kokabiel out of the equation, but was that first-hand experience really worth risking total war over? In my book, that's a hard _no._

"All right," Penemue stretched her arms above her head, happily loosening her muscles. She sighed and climbed out of the tub. "I think it's about time for me to get going. As much as I wish otherwise, there's still a mountain of paperwork waiting for me. Ah, man, this sucks."

I winced as she cracked her neck. "Uh, anything I could help with?"

She glanced at me from above, touched by a vague smile that set her eyes ablaze. "No, not really."

"Oh. Okay."

"Disappointed?"

I tilted my head back and grinned right at her. "No, not really. Suffer on your own for all I care."

"Lying is typically frowned upon," she said.

"Who decides if I'm lying or not?"

"I think you'll find me a good judge of character. I've had plenty of years to practice reading people." Penemue puffed her chest out. Her eyes bore holes into my head, laser-focused on melting through my brain. "You're a few hundred years too early in trying to lie to me, kiddo."

"Oh, yeah? What makes you so sure?" I challenged. "I've fooled Nyx, Night herself, before."

"Please," Penemue scoffed. "Nyx? She is _so_ Paleolithic! Nobody is scared of the dark anymore. Well, maybe except for you."

"I'm not—"

"It's okay." She gave me a placating smile. "You don't have to pretend to be brave. The dark can be scary."

"No seriously, I'm not afraid of the dark," I protested.

Penemue wasn't having it. "If you want me to protect you, I'll do it. But . . . you have to ask me politely. Like when you begged earlier."

My ears and face went red. "I didn't beg!"

"You didn't?"

"No!"

"Oh, my mistake." She nodded sagely. "You were _about_ to beg. If only Bikou hadn't been here."

"There was no begging involved, nor was there going to be any begging involved. Don't get your hopes up."

"That's a lie; not even one you believe." Her finger wagged at me. "Please don't try to become a good liar. Remember what I told you in Pennsylvania? That's a dangerous road. Fire and brimstone! So just be honest with yourself, and that'll lead to you being honest with the rest of us, yeah?"

"I'm not scared of the dark. I've been in the darkest place my universe had to offer and made it through perfectly fine," I said flatly. "Don't you have a bunch of paperwork to do or something?"

She sighed dramatically. "Oh, I suppose you're right. Before I go, though, I want you to know something."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"There's no sane person out there who's not afraid of the dark. There are monsters behind them there curtains. Terrible, terrible monsters." Penemue adjusted the strings of her bikini and shot me a million-watt smile. "So be careful at that meeting. Don't let any of those monsters there get to you, yeah?"

Again, I blushed at the concern she showed me. "Sure. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

"I hope so. I really do. Remember, a storm's still coming. I can feel it in these old bones of mine."

"I'll keep that in mind—carry an umbrella around with me, just in case."

"You do that," she said. "It's well known that heroes typically only carry weapons. But where's the utility? Umbrellas are pretty useful gadgets. Swords, spears, and guns can only do so much."

It was only after she'd walked off that I realized . . . nobody had sat through the story I was ready to tell.

* * *

 **End Chapter**


	8. VIII

**A/N: As of 4-14-2019.**

 **New information provided during ending author's notes.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or High School DxD.**

* * *

8\. I Play the Role She Gave Me

* * *

 **Part I**

* * *

The day of the meeting came, falling on July 19, a Friday. In the end, after a solid two hours of debate among the Grigori's original Cadres, Azazel managed to slip by everybody else's recommendation and took only Vali and me with him to Kuoh, Japan.

Strange as it sounds, the conference was being held in a school, of all things. Thankfully, it was a school holiday, which meant we didn't have to worry about getting a random human involved in our problems. Without the Mist, I figured covering up the supernatural side of things was more of a hassle than in my world.

"Warm, huh?" Azazel said once we'd arrived in front of the huge academy gates. A fifteen-foot brownstone wall rose around the entire academy, topped by short wrought iron posts. Fancy it may have been, but I was more menaced than I was impressed. "Seriously, it's actually way too hot right now."

I had to agree with him. Even with it being close to 10:00 p.m. the heat hadn't settled at all. For the most part, I'd dressed for success; my shorts, boat shoes, and T-shirt all made sure I was decently comfortable in the swelter. The only article out of place for the weather would be the red scarf I'd loosely wrapped around my neck and chin.

Seeing as it was a gift from Le Fay, however, I couldn't have left it out of my get-up. She'd insisted on me wearing it. She wanted people to know I was a hero. And since red was the color of justice, well, that's just the way it had played out in her head. Tobio had teased me about it back at headquarters.

Incidentally, I hadn't seen either Le Fay or Arthur in a while. Both of them were still in England, according to Bikou, no doubt still looking for clues in the case of the mysteriously disappearing Excaliburs. I'd found the scarf on my bed just last night with a note attached to it. Le Fay had knit the thing herself. There was no way I _couldn't_ wear it.

"This place is kinda menacing, huh?" I pointed out. Those wrought iron stakes looked a little too ostentatious. If someone fell on one of those things, it'd be game over. Those things were a fatality waiting to happen. I hoped nobody would be dumb enough to try climbing over the wall.

"Nervous?" Azazel asked. He had on a charcoal-colored three-piece suit. Over that, he wore a long wool coat that stretched to his thighs.

"Not really." I thought back to my old world. The walls of Erebos rising around Hades' domain had been much creepier. "Been through a lot worse than this."

He gave me an approving nod. "Vali, how about you? Feeling the jitters? Got ants in your pants? I can sing you an old Bulgar lullaby to help soothe any nerves. It's about Torbalan."

"I'll be fine," Vali said with a deft shrug. His eyes were locked on the uppermost level of the giant school building in front of us. "The other leaders are already here. I can feel Sirzechs Lucifer's power from out here. He's pretty strong, huh?"

"No fighting," Azazel immediately shut down Vali's only train of thought. "We aren't here to start a war. I'm sure Percy here understands what we're up against. He's got diplomatic experience."

I looked around. "You're overselling me. I've gotten more used to these things after years of dealing with the gods. Like when we defended Manhattan from Kronos. The gods were all off saying, ' _We're busy battling Typhon, he's so scary, he destroyed half of Kentucky, Dionysus got buried in the_ _mountains_ ,' and there we were, about forty half-bloods trying to fight against an army of monsters and two freaking Titans. So, I decided to be pushy. Hermes almost killed me."

"Nice guy," Vali commented.

"I brought up a sore spot for him. He's actually a pretty cool dude most of the time. His multivitamins saved me from living as a guinea pig at one point."

Azazel sighed. "You really aren't helping me make my case here."

Behind us, high in the night sky, dozens of Fallen Angels appeared out of a sea of magic circles. In front of us, the Angel and Devil soldiers already in position around the school stiffened. Tension frayed at the soldiers' nerves on every side. Another kind of heat spilled into the area.

 _And that's not all,_ Nekhbet said. _As the Lucifer boy said, there's a presence inside the school with power far above ours by a wide margin. Devil. There wouldn't be a point in fighting fair with that one. You'd lose horribly._

 _Good to know. Thanks._

 _Don't let your pride get in the way of staying alive._

"All right." Azazel's voice went steely. "No sudden moves. Don't do anything that could piss these guys off. We don't want to start something here."

I nudged Vali. "He's talking to you, dude."

Vali rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm talking to both of you. Vali might be the one to pick more fights, but, Percy, you have a natural charm that makes certain people want to punch you right in the shnozz. Sometimes I'm included in that demographic."

"You know, Tiamat said the same thing when we were in the desert." I pulled my scarf up. "Have you guys been talking about me behind my back?"

"Don't think so highly of yourself, punk."

Vali gave me a sidelong glance. "I would say that's a sign of self-consciousness."

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and squinted at the brownstone walls. "Oh, sure, mock the demigod. Shouldn't we get going?"

"Eager? I like it! Let's march, then." Azazel pressed onward.

We walked through a wide courtyard. In front of us, standing like some kind of monolith, was a four-story building. On either side were paths leading behind the huge school building. Smaller (but no less fancy) buildings took up the furthest sections of our right and left sides. In the center of the courtyard was a fountain, not as large as the one back at Grigori HQ, but still substantial in its own right. Water spewed out from the top in five different directions to fill the circular pool serving as the fountain's base. Despite it being summer, I noticed the grass surrounding the pathways was still a rich green color.

"Man, I would've been kicked out of this place so fast," I said lightly. There would have been no way I wouldn't have done something to break the rules. That, or I'd end up breaking the school. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen today. I didn't need another charge of destruction of property added to my rap sheet.

Angels with pure white wings floated over the right-hand side. Devils with angular black wings were positioned on the left. Their stares felt electric. The Fallen Angels drifted over the gates, taking up space at our rear to make it a good, old-fashioned three-way standoff.

I noticed a lot of the soldiers from the Angel and Devil sides eye us warily. As we approached, they tensed, some even going as far as to back up and break formation.

Standing by the front doors of the main building, a woman dressed as a maid watched us expressionlessly. Her arms were held at her fore, placid. Even so, the danger she passively managed to exude made me take stock of how much water was freely available to use in the pipes crisscrossing the academy. I readied a set of hieroglyphs in my head, keeping Nekhbet's power at the tip of my tongue.

"Welcome, Governor Azazel." Once we were close enough, the maid greeted us with a polite bow. "The others are awaiting your arrival in the designated room. Shall I escort you and your company there?"

"Ah, Grayfia, you're as beautiful and as impersonal as always," Azazel replied with a happy smile. "We'd gladly accept your offer. Lead on."

Grayfia nodded, her red eyes narrowing just a bit when they crossed over Vali. Other than that, she kept herself stoic. She opened the glass doors for us. "Then, please, follow me."

We went inside. The school was different from what I was used to. The first thing I saw were small lockers that didn't look like books could be stored in them. We took an immediate right and passed through a hallway that led to a stairwell at its far end. The rooms had wooden sliding doors with labels denoting things like "1-A" and "1-B". It was hard to miss the fact that the school was much cleaner than Yancy or Meriwether or Goode.

Azazel tried to make idle conversation as we went along. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No," Grayfia didn't bother looking back. "Only about an hour or so."

We climbed the stairs awkwardly as Grayfia's subtle accusation fell on us. Scratching his goatee, Azazel cleared his throat. "I see. Is everyone already there?"

Grayfia made a small noise of dissent. She didn't respond until we reached the second flight. "We are still expecting Lord Lucifer's younger sister, Rias Gremory, and her peerage. They should be coming shortly."

"I see. So the Red Dragon Emperor will be in attendance as well. How do you feel about that, Vali? Your eternal rival is going to be there. Fun times."

"Why should I care?" Vali asked bitterly. "He's a sad excuse for a dragon. What a boring existence Issei Hyoudou is. Normal parents. Sad excuse for a student. No demonic magic. Without the Boosted Gear, he's worthless. And even _with_ the Boosted Gear, he's worthless."

I drove my elbow into Vali's ribs. We weren't looking to pick a fight, but those were fighting words if I'd ever heard any.

Grayfia glanced over her shoulder. She didn't look angry, but the gaze she locked Vali with was glacial. I wondered what that reaction meant, and what kind of relationship Issei Hyoudou had with Grayfia the maid. She didn't seem to be the forgiving type.

"So, Grayfia—um, can I call you that?" When she nodded, I kept going. "So, Grayfia, are you a servant of one of the Great Satans?"

"Yes, I am in the service of Sirzechs Lucifer as his [Queen]."

Wait, so _this_ was the "Strongest Queen" that Azazel had mentioned? For some reason, I hadn't expected her to be wearing what she was, but to each their own. I was wearing a scarf in July, over khaki shorts and boating shoes, no less.

Once the stairs couldn't climb any higher, we turned a corner or two and stopped in front of a pair of doors. Grayfia knocked once to acknowledge we were there, then pushed inside.

"Governor Azazel and company," she introduced, though it was probably unnecessary.

The room was a big one. Along one wall was a line of huge windows, each around fifteen feet tall, with the curtains drawn open. Two glass chandeliers hung on thick chains from above. Sitting around a table with gilded accents, I got my first look at the leaders of Heaven and the other side of the Underworld.

Long hair was all the rage, apparently. Blonde, black, red—it didn't matter the color. Everybody sitting at the table had long hair. Azazel had told me what he thought was relevant information about the leaders, so I did recognize them by appearance alone.

Sirzechs Lucifer and Serafall Leviathan sat near each other, two of the Four Great Satans. War heroes for the current Devil populace after the civil war that tore their people apart.

Lucifer was dressed in something too rich for my blood, his hair a shocking red color that almost matched my scarf. Apart from his hair and clothing, the guy looked friendly enough, going as far as smiling kindly at me when we locked eyes. The Divine Words I'd been holding on to during our walk with Grayfia changed immediately. The balance of power was so obviously in favor of Sirzechs Lucifer. I had no choice but to disregard everybody else in the room. If I didn't use the most outrageous spell in my arsenal, it'd be no contest.

The girl beside Sirzechs Lucifer was Serafall Leviathan, sporting black hair held in long twin-tails. While she wasn't dressed as lavishly as Sirzechs, her suit looked rather expensive. Also unlike her scary Satan friend, Serafall was much less outwardly intense, which I could appreciate given our positions.

Michael and Gabriel were next. Two of the Four Great Seraphs. Survivors of the Great War, and powerful beings in their own right. Michael, the current leader of Heaven, had a similar vibe going to Sirzechs. Not quite on the same wavelength, but behind his amiable smile I felt something was . . . off. He had rather sad, droopy green eyes, and he'd taken a page from the Devil's playbook, wearing a set of grandiose armor to relay his station.

Gabriel reminded me a bit of Penemue, mostly in facial structure. The similarities ended there. Gabriel, like Michael, had a head of long blonde hair and a floating halo. Her white gown hid most of her body and looked more like something you would wear to bed rather than to an important conference. Azazel had told me that Gabriel was the most beautiful woman in Heaven. I'd never been to Heaven myself, but it wasn't hard to see why she'd been labeled that way.

"Ah, Sirzechs, Serafall, you're both looking especially devilish today." Azazel smiled at everybody as he walked to the table. "Michael, Gabriel, you're simply heavenly as always. I'm glad to see everyone's doing well!"

"Thank you, Azazel," Gabriel smiled brightly. Unlike the ones Sirzechs and Michael gave, hers was calming. "You seem well yourself."

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Azazel?" Michael put his arms on the table.

Vali, without concern for propriety, sat down right there at the table before Azazel could. The leaders gave him a strange look but didn't say anything. I held back a sigh. It wasn't a big deal, in the end.

Azazel followed behind Vali and sat down. I noticed there was a chair for me at the table. Along a wall adjacent to the windows was a row of foldable metal chairs.

One person was already there, a girl about my age with short dark hair and a pair of glasses, gussied up in what I assumed was a school uniform. I wasn't too sure, though. Her skirt was short. Probably too short to be considered appropriate at a private academy as fancy as Kuoh.

Instead of sitting at the table with the other leaders, I walked over to the row of chairs and pointed at the seat next to the girl. "This occupied?"

The girl studied me curiously—suspiciously. "Not yet."

Her vaguely standoffish answer made me frown. I looked back toward the table. Most of the leaders were watching. Serafall Leviathan was staring at me like a hawk. I tried not to feel intimidated. "Do you mind if I sit here, then? The table's a little too rich for my blood. I'm not dressed for the occasion."

"I don't mind." The girl shot the leaders' table a discreet huff. "They went out of their way to give you your own seat, though. It would be rather disrespectful if you didn't take their offer."

"Yeah?" Humming, I went back to the table, picked up the chair meant for me, and hauled it to the wall, making some room before sliding into my preferred position. "Hey, the view's pretty nice from here. Courtside. You were holding out on me . . ."

The girl blinked owlishly. Her mouth opened a few times, though no sound came out. Eventually, once I'd started grinning at her, she offered, "Sona. Sona Sitri."

"Percy," I stuck my hand out. She tentatively shook it. "Percy Jackson."

"Was that a good idea?" Sona asked. "You skirted around the issue without properly addressing its core."

"It'll be fine," I said, gesturing with my chin to the table. The leaders didn't seem angry. If anything, they were amused. "Doesn't look like they're gonna complain."

"I hope you're right," she said. "Your bold move did seem to break some of the ice. The leaders had been quite tense before you acted."

I adjusted my new scarf. "All according to plan."

At the table, the leaders exchanged pleasantries for a minute or two. Sirzechs didn't sound as intimidating as I'd made him out to in my mind. Unfortunately, he still set me on edge. Everybody at the table was all smiles, though Serafall shot furtive glares at a blissfully unaware Gabriel every so often. I found that funny.

A knock at the door dwindled their conversation. It opened to reveal a nearly identical copy of Sirzechs Lucifer. Except this Sirzechs Lucifer was a girl, no doubt about that. She walked into the room, a group of six people trailing behind her.

"Excuse us," Girlzechs said politely, bowing toward the table.

"Rias Gremory and her peerage," Sirzechs introduced with a wave. "They were one of the targets Kokabiel had in mind to assassinate to provoke a war."

Serafall took the chance to jump in. "Along with my own younger sister, Sona Sitri."

So, the girl sitting beside me was the younger sister of the Satan Leviathan? I made note to watch her.

"I would like to thank both of you for handling the situation with as much tact as you did," Michael said pleasantly. "Your level heads certainly kept it from escalating into something much more destructive."

"Yeah, sorry one of my guys gave you such a hard time," Azazel said. He didn't even try to put an apologetic tone behind his words. I'd worked with him for long enough to ignore his inflections about half of the time he talked. "Surprisingly, none of you are dead! Good, good."

Rias "Girlzechs" Gremory and her people weren't as attuned to those kinds of comments. Most of their faces fell a bit flat hearing my boss' sorry excuse for an apology.

Gabriel tilted her head. "You're as flagrant as I remember, Azazel."

I'm not sure how, but she'd said it without sounding condescending in the slightest. It was a completely innocent observation on her part. While that was refreshing, it still managed to throw me off. She looked so much like Penemue, I suppose I expected her personality to be a closer match as well.

"Well, before we get started shall we finish individual introductions?" Sirzechs smiled at the room. "Why doesn't everybody from Rias' peerage name themselves for the benefit of our non-Devil acquaintances?"

Considering he was the leader of Devil-kind, I figured the peerage was hard-pressed to refuse. If they had any misgivings, they hid it well, going down the line to identify themselves. Azazel hadn't told me about the peerage. I listened and tried to commit names and faces to memory.

Eventually, I got to see the Red Dragon Emperor for myself. Issei Hyoudou was a plain-looking guy, not very tall nor muscled, with brown hair and warm eyes that lingered on Gabriel throughout his introduction. He wasn't what I was expecting. Not at all.

"Thank you all," Sirzechs nodded at his sister, then gestured to the row of chairs next to me. "Please, have a seat."

The group made its way to the wall. I got plenty of looks. Issei seemed to be angry at me if his glares were anything to go by, though I wasn't sure what I did to offend the guy. We'd just met for the first time. How had I riled him up so quickly?

Rias hesitated when she got close to me and Sona. She greeted Sona first with a warm smile, then turned to me, head tilted ever-so-slightly to the left. "Hello. I don't believe we've met."

"I would've remembered," I said, gesturing to her hair. "Name's—"

"And now," Sirzechs' voice trounced my whisper, "Azazel, can you introduce your own side for us? I'm afraid there's an unfamiliar face in the crowd."

"Putting the pressure on me this early, huh? Very slick." Azazel stabbed his thumb at Vali. "This here is the White Dragon Emperor, Vali. He's the trouble-child of my group."

Vali had crossed his arms and looked out the window as our boss introduced him.

Azazel continued, "The social butterfly over by the wall is Percy Jackson. He's . . . not all that important."

My lip twitched. "Thank you Azazel, very cool."

Sirzechs raised his eyebrow. "You'll forgive me if I'm not very familiar with your accomplishments, Mr. Jackson. Do you, by chance, possess a Sacred Gear?"

"Nothing so fancy," I held up my hands defensively. Rias sat down next to me, and made Issei sit on her other side. "And I'm not complaining about being out of the spotlight."

"If only we all could be so lucky," Sirzechs chuckled. "With introductions out of the way, how does everybody feel about starting the conference?"

Heads bobbed up and down from the leaders. Serafall said, "To reiterate, everybody here already knows about the death of the Biblical God during the Great War."

I leaned forward. "Come again?"

Azazel snapped his fingers a few times. "So that's what I was forgetting."

"That's about par for the course," I shook my head at my boss. "So the 'Big Guy Upstairs' is gone? Like, for real? He didn't just decide to take an extended vacation in Bora Bora or something, right?"

"Yes, unfortunately, God died during the Great War," Michael said.

"Wow." I blinked. The impact was lessened by what I recalled of Pan. I'd seen gods die before. I'd almost killed one myself. What was one more added to the list? "Okay, got it. Sorry for ruining the flow you guys had going."

Though I still got some weird looks, Sirzechs moved right along. "With that out of the way, let's get started."

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

My leg bounced up for the millionth time. Over the course of an hour, I'd managed to stay almost completely still in my seat despite the horribly boring proceedings. At least, I think they were horribly boring. My brain had checked out a few times while the leaders talked about _this_ or _that_ or _the other_.

I'd spent more time thinking about how I would handle myself if a fight broke out than listening to the conversation. True, I may have had a stake in the situation now since I worked for Azazel, but everything the leaders discussed was mostly white noise. I didn't understand half of the references they threw out regarding territory disputes or diplomatic mishaps. Just another problem with being the third wheel in a group.

 _The ones sitting beside you will pose no problem,_ Nekhbet helpfully supplied. _Keep on your guard, and we can make quick work of them. Of course, we must be wary of the leaders. The most pressing matter for concern is_ —

Yeah, I knew. Sirzechs Lucifer. Undoubtedly the strongest person in the room. He shared a similar aura to Rias, something dark and cold, an abyss deep enough to make Nekhbet shiver.

The difference between the siblings was subtle. Sirzechs had incredible control over his power. Rias . . . not so much. That said, with my _Vulture Vision_ , it wasn't hard to see how chasmic Sirzechs' dark power really stretched. The guy was no joke. He was Crom Cruach levels of scary. Maybe even scarier.

I kept my guard up. For the most part, I assumed the talks were going well. Nobody seemed overtly interested in killing another person. There hadn't been any outbursts of anger from the leaders. Heck, Grayfia had been serving tea and snacks, making it look like a scene straight out of a movie.

When Sirzechs asked his sister to talk about the incident with Kokabiel, Rias and Sona both stood up and addressed the leaders. Naturally, Sirzechs' gaze had been drawn my way due to how close I was to his sister.

Our eyes locked; we both squinted at each other for the briefest second, and the distance between us shrank as Sirzechs' dark power stretched.

Invisible fingers of red-black energy drifted from his body and poisoned the air. He gave me a pleasant smile. But he couldn't fool me.

 _He's a monster,_ Nekhbet warned.

I agreed with her.

Rias and Sona finished talking and sat down again.

"Thank you both," Sirzechs said. "Azazel, what do you have—"

"Yeah, I've already read the reports," Azazel yawned. He didn't bother covering his mouth, just waving his hand loosely at the leaders. "There was no need to have the kids waste their breath. Here's my retort: Kokabiel was working on his own. He went rogue for this operation. None of the other Cadres were aware of what he planned to do, and none of them provided him any sort of assistance. He's been locked away already. Maximum security. Frozen solid. We're over that hump now, so can we move on to something productive?"

"Do tell what you mean by that," Serafall said icily.

"Let's make love, not war!" Azazel pounded his fist onto the table. "Peace is what I mean. Aren't we all tired of walking on eggshells? Why don't we just agree that the bullshit from the past should more or less stay in the past? God and the original Satans are dead. Good riddance. Why don't we let them roll in their graves at this kind of news?"

"That's quite convenient," Gabriel said, tilting her head. "Putting our bad blood behind us certainly would do our people good."

"I concur." Michael smiled. "I came to this meeting with the intention to ask for peace with the Devils and Grigori."

Sirzechs nodded slowly. "Certainly, I think the idea of peace can only be good for Devils in the long run."

Azazel grinned at everybody. He spread his arms wide open. "Peace it is. If anybody has a problem, speak now, or forever hold your tongue."

I tuned the conversation out again. My back hurt and my leg hadn't stopped moving once. I'd started drumming my fingers on my thigh at some point. Closing my eyes, I felt Nekhbet's energy filter through my veins. I focused on the sensations, vaguely aware of the talking in the background.

A voice suddenly rose from my right-hand side. "Because of your people, Asia and I were killed!"

I turned my attention to the room at large. Nekhbet filled me in on what I'd missed. Apparently, Issei Hyoudou had asked Michael a few questions before turning his attention to my boss.

Azazel gave Issei a good, long look of interest. "My negligence did get you both killed, you're right. Raynare and her friends were operating in this territory under my orders, that's right. Do you want me to apologize? Is that going to make you feel any better? Those guys are all dead. I believe your master had something to do with that. So, then, is it such a problem for you still? Do you hate being a Devil that much?"

Issei's anger deflated some. "W-well, no. I mean, everyone treats me really well, and I've also been having a good time with them . . . but still!"

Beside him, Rias stood up and put a hand on his arm. She spoke gently, "Calm down, Issei. What's done is done. Even if he apologized, it wouldn't mean much, right?"

Slumping a bit, Issei lowered his accusatory finger. "I—yeah, I guess so. Still, it's a dick move to just sit there with that kind of smirk."

Azazel didn't bother hiding it. "At least you've got fire. But with the discussion of peace basically over and done with, why don't we get some opinions that aren't our own? Maybe talking to the two Heavenly Dragons will give us some insight, right? Vali, tell us how you feel about peace."

I wondered if this was planned before we came here. Azazel hadn't told me anything about it, and Vali did take a second to think about the answer.

"I want to fight strong people—to fight my way to the top."

Issei looked at Vali as if he were crazy. It wasn't just him, either. Most of Rias' peerage did the same. The leaders, on the other hand, took it in stride. They'd probably heard it all before.

"And what about you, Welsh Dragon?" Azazel grinned. "What's your opinion?"

"Urg . . ." Issei's face fell into contemplation. "Well, I'm not really worried about the state of the world in that way, you know? I have an underclassman who seems to need my help right now, so I'm more focused on dealing with that before anything. Plus all the talking from before was too much for me."

I suddenly felt a certain level of camaraderie with Issei. I was glad it wasn't just me who felt out of place.

Azazel laughed loudly. "Yeah, politics are awful, aren't they? That's why I try to leave things to Shemhaza, my right-hand man. But let me be more blunt about it: peace in this age and those following means we don't have to worry about fighting on the front lines."

Vali scowled at the table.

"What's more," Azazel continued, "we can't focus on keeping our respective people going. I'm talking about baby-making, of course. If we make peace, you, Issei Hyoudou, will be able to make love to Rias Gremory however much you want. You can try making babies every hour, of every day, each year. Sounds good, eh?"

The room went silent. For a few seconds, I was afraid Issei's brain had up and melted. The expression on his face was one of absolute shock.

Then, a trickle of blood trailed down from his nose. He trembled so much, I was afraid he was going to pass out. "S-sex? You mean h-have s-sex with President?" Issei's voice was coarse. "Yes! Okay! I've decided that peace is the option for me! Please make peace, everybody, so President and I can make babies! The first step for becoming a Harem-King!"

I tried not to laugh at his sputtering. This guy was definitely a weird one. In this kind of situation, he just blatantly described wanting to have sex with the younger sister of Sirzechs Lucifer, who was sitting about ten feet away?

If someone said that about my little sister in front of me, I don't know what I'd do. I'd have to give them an obligatory punch to the gut, of course, but apart from that, I wasn't so sure.

Further down the line, a handsome guy with blond hair—Yuuto Kiba—said, "Uh, Issei, you _do_ remember that Lord Lucifer is sitting right over there, right?"

Sirzechs, for his part, just chuckled.

Beside me, Azazel struggled to keep himself from guffawing. "'Harem-King?' You want to be ' _a_ ' Harem-King? That's all the Red Dragon Emperor aspires for?"

"W-what? Don't laugh! This is a serious dream of mine!"

"But it's such a shallow one," Azazel said. "You, bearing the power of one of those Heavenly Dragons, shouldn't be resigned to such an easy fate. Don't get me wrong, harems are fun, but it's been done before."

Issei's eyes blazed with hidden fire. "Then what are you suggesting? For me to abandon such a beautiful dream?"

"No. I just think you should aim bigger." With a happy, whole-handed point, Azazel said, "Don't just be another [King] with a harem. Instead, embrace such a title for all it's worth. Become the irrefutable king of harems. Crown yourself Harem King!"

"I-is something like that even possible for me?" Issei fell to both his knees. "Can I really do something like that, you damn Fallen Angel? Don't bullshit me!"

"Of course you can do it. People are attracted to a dragon's power, you know? With grit, a likable personality, and plenty of luck, I'm sure you can be the one, true, Harem King. He who holds a harem unrivaled in the world!"

Tears built up in the Red Dragon Emperor's eyes. "You actually believe in me? Ah, you're not as bad as I originally thought, Governor Azazel!"

Just as he finished speaking, a sensation spread throughout my body—a sensation eerily similar to Kronos' ability to control time.

I was at the windows before anybody else had even started to get up from their seats.

 _No need to get so excited,_ Nekhbet told me as we watched hundreds of magic circles light up the night sky. From the circles, people in drab, full-body robes appeared, their hoods drawn up and everything. _None of them is worth much._

"So something like this happened, huh?" Vali had made his way beside me. "Hmph, that's pretty annoying. They're all so weak."

I glanced back. Azazel was talking to the other leaders. They'd all gotten up and walked away from the table to huddle together. Behind them, most of Rias' peerage hadn't moved a hair.

Walking to the wall, I got a closer look at the problem. Only three people—Yuuto Kiba, Xenovia Quarta, and Rias herself—were glancing around. Everyone else seemed frozen.

"H-huh?" Issei blinked rapidly. So he'd come back as well. It happened quickly, but a flash of light drew my attention to his left arm. A red gauntlet with gold accents had manifested. The Boosted Gear.

"So, terrorists, huh?" Azazel sighed. "Man, what a time to choose."

The magicians outside had started firing spells at us. Blue, white, red, yellow, ice, fire, lighting—all of it came our way. None of their attacks hit the building, though, fizzling once they got within twenty feet.

"Gabriel and I can handle the protection surrounding the building." Michael smiled at us while Gabriel nodded with happy determination. "And it seems the Lords Lucifer and Leviathan are dealing with the barrier between this academy and the town at large."

"Wait!" Issei stopped them. "Did you say ' _terrorists_ '? What the hell! How are you guys so calm!"

 _I wouldn't expect the leaders of Heaven to erect a barrier flimsy enough to be broken by these ants,_ Nekhbet sighed. _The difference between your magic and theirs is already night and day._

 _Yeah, but they're able to cast so many spells. I can't throw out nearly that much,_ I told her.

 _Quality over quantity, in this case._

Sirzechs held his chin. "So it seems as though Gasper Vladi has been forced into his Balance Breaker state? This time freeze is reminiscent of Forbidden Balor View. And all of the soldiers we brought with us have been frozen in time, along with some of my sister's peerage and the heiress Sitri."

"And that won't go unpunished," Serafall promised dangerously. "I'll make sure to find out where these guys came from and destroy their entire organization!"

Rias also looked murderous. "To think that someone from my family is being used as a tool by those malcontents! This is beyond inexcusable."

Azazel waved his hand over the scene. Spears of light started to appear. One, two, four, thirty, a hundred, and on and on the number climbed. Soon, the sky outside was filled with light-spears. With a flick, Azazel sent them all falling down.

"Wait, Zaze, if those guys are human—" I tried to protest, but it was too late.

 _PHWISH!_

A rain of spears cut the magicians apart. Blood sprayed from chopped up bodies as chunks hit the courtyard. My mouth soured. I looked away, narrowing my eyes.

"What?" he said, pretending to be innocent. "They're terrorists. You think I should welcome them with open arms? Just because they're human doesn't mean they should be exempt from being killed. After all, they'd kill _you_ without a second thought."

I frowned. "Whatever, dude."

Sirzechs cleared his throat. "We should find a way to get Gasper out of the magician's control. If they can forcibly induce a Balance Breaker state, it isn't out of the realm of possibility that they can increase the power behind Forbidden Balor View."

Gabriel put a finger to her chin. "Wouldn't that mean there's a chance they could freeze _us_ in time, too?"

"Exactly so," Azazel said dramatically. "Which means Sirzechs is right. We've gotta get that half-vamp out, and fast."

"There's more to the magic than just time freezing," Vali nodded at the courtyard. There, the bodies of the magicians disappeared, along with the blood. More magic circles lit up the sky, and from them, more magicians came through. "Those must be the same as before. They have a very knowledgeable magician on their side."

Rias stepped up. "I'll go to Gasper. He's a member of my family. He's my responsibility! I'll take care of him."

"And how do you plan on getting there?" Sirzechs asked. "The usual transport is being blocked. Walking outside will get you blown away."

"I have an unused piece to castle with inside the club room."

"I see. That could work but . . . Grayfia, prepare a ritual and send the Welsh Dragon with Rias. Azazel, there've been rumors that you have some kind of device that allows for the control of a Sacred Gear."

Azazel muttered, "Spies everywhere. But you're right, Sirzechs. Want me to hand it over?"

"Can you think of a better way to test it than on the Red Dragon Emperor and Forbidden Balor View?"

A deal like that, Azazel just couldn't refuse. If I knew anything about my boss, it was that he took golden opportunities when he saw them.

"Haha! You're totally right." Azazel fished out two bracelets from his jacket. He tossed them over to Rias and Issei. "Use that on yourself and the half-vamp. It should contain the power a Sacred Gear holds."

Issei pointed at himself, surprised. "What? Me?"

"That's right. If worse comes to worst, you'll even be able to activate your own Balance Breaker without harming yourself. Careful, though. You'll eat through stamina and magic power like crazy. Man, you really are a sad excuse for a dragon, you know that? I don't remember the last few hosts being so weak."

Azazel absolutely destroyed the poor kid. Grayfia moved by Issei and Rias to prepare the spell or whatever it was they were doing.

Michael sighed. "How far have you gotten in your research of Sacred Gears, Azazel?"

"What, you got a problem with it?" Azazel smirked. "God is dead and gone. Somebody has to step in, right? You aren't the kind to concern himself with science, and now, in these types of situations, isn't it good to have someone be able to explain the system for other people?"

"I think Michael is just concerned that it's _you_ , Azazel, who has such knowledge," Gabriel said that, again, without any kind of unpleasant intonation.

"Kuh! To hear that coming from you of all people, Gabriel, somehow cuts deep." Azazel held a hand to his gut. He straightened and said, "Anyway, Vali, why don't you go and introduce yourself to those guys out there? Seeing the White Dragon Emperor would ruffle a few jimmies."

Vali glanced out the window. "Why don't I just blow up that old school building? That way, we get rid of some terrorists and Forbidden Balor View at the same time. Two birds, one stone."

I questioned the logic of saying something like that given our present company.

"You stop that." Azazel reprimanded with a flat glare. "We made peace already."

"Fine." Vali summoned Divine Dividing on his back. The robot-wings opened. "Balance Break."

 **[Vanishing Dragon Balance Breaker!]**

Once he'd clad himself in that white armor, Vali sent a final glance over his shoulder directed at Issei. With that, he smashed through the window and started attacking the magicians gathered in the sky. They fell like flies.

"Percy, you should go too," Azazel said.

I squinted at the courtyard, watching as the magicians fell in the face of Vali's assault. But for every person that hit the ground, another appeared out of a magic circle in the air. I put my hands in my pockets. "Yeah . . . I'm not really feeling it."

"Great, then we . . . Wait, what are you saying?"

Pointing with my chin, I said, "Look. Vali can handle those guys no problem."

"You—are you kidding me?"

"That's just how it is, boss."

Azazel sighed dramatically. "You've become a lot lazier since Tiamat gave you that advice."

 **[T-Tiamat? Who said that name? Is she here?]**

"Huh? Ddraig, what are you talking about?" Issei looked at his left arm, toward the glowing green jewel on the Boosted Gear. "Who's this 'Tiamat' person?"

"Tiamat is one of the Dragon Kings. The strongest, if I recall correctly," Rias said with awe. "Do you know Lady Tiamat, Mr. Jackson?"

I held up my hand. "Just call me Percy. As for knowing Tiamat . . . I guess you could say I know her. I've helped her a few times. Almost died because of her. Twice. But she helped me figure some things out, so it's a fair trade in my book."

The dragon inside the Boosted Gear asked, **[You . . . aren't going to tell her you met me . . . right?]**

"She already knows," I shrugged helplessly. That much wasn't a lie. Tiamat had debated on whether to come just so she could harass the Red Dragon Emperor. "She chose not to come today. But she definitely knows you're here in Kuoh."

 **[I-I see. T-then, as long as we move far, far away from here, I'll be fine. Mhm. Okay then. Easy enough.]**

"H-hold on a minute, Ddraig! You can't just expect me to uproot my whole life with one sentence!" Issei protested vigorously, shaking his left arm. "My parents and friends—"

 **[This is for your own good. Forget about them. Lead a new life in Borneo as an adapted native. Live off the land deep in the forest.]**

"B-Borneo? I don't even know where the hell Borneo is! Be serious here, you damn dragon!"

Xenovia, the girl with blue hair, stepped forward. "Mr. Jackson!"

"Huh? Percy is fine." I moved away a little at her intensity.

"I see," she nodded intently. "Then, Mr. Percy."

I smiled wryly. "Lose the 'mister' part, too."

"How did you help Lady Tiamat?" she asked, ignoring my request. "And how did she help you?"

Before I could answer, Azazel said, "We've got company."

A magic circle appeared on the other side of the room. Sirzechs clicked his tongue while Serafall gasped. Michael hummed. Gabriel only tilted her head. The reactions made me figure someone special was about to pop in.

"Grayfia, send them now." Sirzechs' eyes churned with dark power. "Be ready to add your own power to the barrier around the academy."

"As you say." Grayfia turned to Issei and Rias. "Good luck. Stay safe."

"Wait, Grayfia—"

Rias' words were cut off as she disappeared in a flash of light. She and Issei were gone from the room. Everybody turned to the magic circle.

"So, who's about to crash the party?" I asked.

Azazel chuckled. "That's the crest of the original Leviathan. Apparently, we're about to meet a blood descendant of that person. What kind of irony is this, I wonder?"

From the circle, two people stepped out, walking side by side. One was a tall woman in an exotic dress, a pair of glasses over her cold blue eyes. The other was an elfish dude (as in, he had pointy ears and a youthful face) wearing fancy clothes that were probably all the rage back in the courts of ye-olden-Europe.

"Katerea Leviathan, Creuserey Asmodeus. What a pleasant surprise," Sirzechs said, not sounding surprised nor pleased at their arrival.

"Ah, hello there Sirzechs Lucifer. And the same goes for you, Azazel, Michael, Gabriel." The woman, who I assume was Katerea, spoke with negligence.

"Wha—! Katerea, how could you forget me?" Serafall put a hand against her chest and pouted. "That's just too rude!"

Katerea's lip twisted. She snarled, "I don't want to hear it from you, you fake. _I'm_ the rightful inheritor to the title of Leviathan!"

"Yes, well, at least you get to kill her today," Elf-Dude picked at his ear calmly. "I, on the other hand, have to wait for another chance to reclaim the throne of Asmodeus. And the same goes for Shalba, you know?"

"Oh, come off it, Creuserey. You'll get your chance to kill Falbium once this is done." Katerea pretty much ignored her partner's complaint.

"Yes, yes, I've heard that one before," Creuserey sniped. "You're always saying 'today is the day', and it never is. Why couldn't I have just gone and finished the pretender on my own?"

" _Because_ ," Katerea ground out, "you and I stand a much greater chance of killing Serafall and Sirzechs together."

"But isn't it overkill at this point?"

"Have you ever heard the expression 'better safe than sorry'? It applies here."

As they bickered, I asked Nekhbet, _How's the situation looking?_

 _Yes, well, both of them are quite strong. Certainly above your own level by a good margin._ Nekhbet hummed slowly. _Their natural aura is intermingling with another, more powerful energy. It would seem they are being enhanced in some way. Almost like you and I. Neither are at the level of Sirzechs Lucifer, however, they have just about exceeded every other person here._

 _Should I use_ ma'at _on one of them?_ I asked.

 _Certainly not,_ she scoffed. _They're both distracted, yes? Let's show them why that's a bad idea in our presence._

I reached into my pocket. Neither Katerea or Creuserey noticed. Flicking the cap off, I threw Riptide at Katerea. It expanded from pen to sword as it flew. With my other hand, I pointed at the space just above Creuserey's skull. My mouth moved: " _Stahp._ "

Ah, the beauty of Divine Words. I'd spent a lot of my time focusing on becoming a wizard, to be honest, rather than going even further beyond my raw power. In the end, Nekhbet agreed with my decision. There were just so many spells to use for any given situation. A magician was guaranteed at least one or two for just about anything they could think of. That said, I hadn't had the time to learn more than a handful of spells over the course of the spring.

 _Stahp_ was one of my favorite spells, along with being the third I'd learned with Nekhbet's help. It meant "sever", which made a lot of sense when I remember how I'd first seen it used by Carter to lop off Setne's hand. Yeah, it was awesome in that regard. Anything that could hurt Setne was a win in my book. And _stahp_ had definitely hurt that crazy, Elvis wannabe. Good.

The downside? It was hard to aim. See, the glowing blue hieroglyph for _stahp_ did the severing, acting kind of like a pendulum blade. The spell swung on a fulcrum in a crescent-shaped motion. Where the magician aimed was where the fulcrum would be placed. It was pretty easy to miss a moving target. Thankfully, Creuserey had been so concerned with my flying sword that he hadn't realized my words meant bad news for him.

It was over before he knew what happened as the hieroglyph blazed a line through his skull and dissipated once it had completed its arc.

Katerea, whom I'd thrown Riptide at, easily sidestepped to let it pass by her. She sneered at me. "What was that supposed to do, interloper?"

I pointed next to her. Creuserey Asmodeus fell to the ground, his head split like a watermelon right down the middle.

Despite him being stronger than me, he hadn't been taking us seriously. For all their power, it didn't matter if someone was caught off guard. Ares could attest to that. Polybotes, too. Heck, if Kronos hadn't had Luke's invincible skin, he would never have made it to Olympus.

Feeling morbidly proud of myself, I took the temperature of the room. It was silent. Eerily silent. People were giving me a strange type of scrutinization.

I frowned and looked at Sirzechs. "Hey, they're the bad guys, right?"

"They are," he confirmed.

"Whew, good. Just wanted to make sure."

Katerea seethed. "You dare spill the blood of a descendant of the true Great Satans?"

"Um . . . yes? Look, don't take it personally. You're the bad guys here. I'm just trying to do my job." I held my hands up in surrender. Wisps of smoke escaped my mouth when I spoke; using spells typically made me start combusting. The first two or three weren't so bad in terms of heat and pain. My nature as the son of Poseidon didn't help me all that much when it came to overusing Divine Words, which was kind of a drag.

"I've decided," she growled, "that you die first."

Crackling energy warped the air around her fingers. She lifted her hand. The school building exploded.

* * *

 **End Chapter**

* * *

 **A/N: Gonna have a TL;DR at the bottom.**

 **To make it quick. This note will more than likely be deleted in the future, however, it will remain until the newest version of [Chapter 9] is released.**

 **Those who have already read [Chapter 9], I will be revising it again, because I've gone through and come to the conclusion that convoluting the story the way I'd planned to isn't doing anybody any favors. Ergo, I'll be removing the plotline which deals with Apophis. He was originally meant to take the role of one of the "Biggest Baddies" in the story, being both manipulative and stupidly powerful. However, I came to realize that another character could take his place (one that was already part of the DxD universe, and whom I think has good potential.)**

 **Adding Apophis wasn't so much extraneous more than it was superfluous. And besides, as a writer, I don't think I could do what I'd been planning with his character. I was pretty arrogant after having read other books and thinking I'd be able to pull some of the same stuff. The story so far is undergoing an overhaul of future chapters. A lot of my initial ideas are being thrown out, which means I have to wrangle with how to go through things in a way that pleases a majority of the audience, along with making it palatable to myself.**

 **On the subject of arrogance (mine), I'm wondering if there are some nice people out there who'd be willing to alpha/beta read. I'm less concerned about grammar and spelling (though I'm totally down for that if they are), and more interested in bouncing ideas off of them and getting their general vibe from chapters before I put them out. As an author, it's easy to disconnect with what the reader would feel when they read a chapter, given the bias inherent to feeling comfortable enough to put something out there for criticism. If you'd like to help me with this story, send me a PM so we can talk a bit.**

 **I know that these revisions are annoying. If I were a reader and an author did it, I'd be pretty annoyed. So, sorry about that. Hopefully, this kind of thing won't happen again.**

 **I write this long-as-fuck AN to give you a certain amount of transparency. I'd rather not abandon this particular story (though I will never make promises stating otherwise) which is why I'm doing these revisions. A full story rewrite is unnecessary at this point because most of the narrative thus far would stay the same. Any rewrite I make in this same crossover would have an entirely new premise, thus making it a new story altogether. I haven't struggled enough to say "fuck it" and just make a new story.**

 **TL;DR:** **Say goodbye to the Apophis plotline. And I'm looking for a few people who are interested in being a beta/critique partner; I'm hoping for around 5 people, less for grammar and spelling, and more for plot consistency, characterization, and scene focus. Please PM me if you're willing to do so. I understand this is frustrating for those who have already been through this song and dance. Thank you for the support you have provided me, whether well-rationed criticism or telling me you can't wait for my next update.**

 _ **If you have questions about these revisions, feel free to either shoot me a PM or hit me up on Discord (links on my bio.) It's easier for me to respond that way than through the review feature here.**_


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